Galactic Armageddon
by Zim'sMostLoyalServant
Summary: Book 3 of the Destiny Trilogy. As Zim and Jana begin their plans to conquer the galaxy, it is up to Dib and others to defeat them, and stop their madness once and for all.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Well, here you go, the beginning of the last part of my trilogy. I was going to put off writing this until I posted my Danny Phantom/Transformers crossover, but I'm having serious writer's block on that, so I'm shelving it for now.**

**Anyway, as for this story, I intend for it to be the most action-packed one yet, and to try writing for characters I haven't in the past. So, keep your eyes open for them.**

**All that said, read on!**

**Summary: Three years after their retreat from Earth, Zim and Jana begin their plans to conquer the Irken Empire. By instigating a war between the Irkens and the other major powers, the twisted couple hope to weaken the Empire to the point that they will be able to take over. Now, it is up to Dib, and those Irkens loyal to the Tallest, to stop Zim before he imposes his tyranny over the entire galaxy.**

**Disclaimer: All canon characters and concepts belong to Jhonen Vasquez. Anyone you don't recognize belongs to me.**

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** Galactic Armageddon**

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_Medgic System, Sector 93847-GWP, 2800 Hours Galactic Standard Time_

The uninhabited star system known as Medgic was normally only occupied by its resident gas giants, their blocks-of-ice moons, and the few solid planets close to the local star that were too hot to support life. However, on this particular day, there were signs of life.

Floating in orbit around one the gas giants was a grey-and-purple colored ship that was shaped vaguely like a giant tuning fork. Any expert on ships would have recognized it as a Vortian battle cruiser; one of the only ones left in existence, in fact, ever since the Irken conquest of Vort almost a decade earlier. This particular ship was used as the mobile base of operations by the anti-Irken group known as the Resisty – and yes, they had in fact decided to keep the name, no matter how stupid it was.

On the bridge of the ship, most of the Resisty members were ambling about, trying to look like they were doing something important. Seated on a command chair in the elevated rear of the bridge, Lard Nar stared out the main viewscreen, ignoring his subordinates as he waited for the arrival of the people they were supposed to be meeting with.

Well, he was _trying_ to ignore them, anyway…

"Will you _please_ stop that whistling? It's getting on my nerves!" Lard Nar snapped at Shloonktapooxis, who was floating next to his head. The cone-shaped alien stopped his whistling and pouted at his leader.

"Aw, but I'm _bored,_" he whined.

"Then go do something useful," Lard Nar said, before adding in a mutter, "Like jumping out the airlock."

Shloonktapooxis apparently heard him though, as he responded, "Uh, but wouldn't you have to find a new second-in-command if I did that?"

Lard Nar blinked, and then gave the cone a confused look.

"When'd I make you second-in-command?" he asked.

"I dunno," Shloonktapooxis said, tilting himself to one side in the equivalent of a shrug, "Me and some of the others were talking, and we all just assumed that you had."

Lard Nar stared for several seconds, then sighed and massaged his head.

"I need a vacation," he muttered, hopping out of his chair and heading down the hall towards the break room. Grabbing a soda from one of the vending machines, he began chugging it down, silently wishing for something a little stronger to help him handle all of the stresses and irritants he had to deal with on a daily basis.

"HEY BOSS!"

'Speaking of which,' he thought with a sigh. Turning around, he saw Spleenk running down the hall towards him, waving all four of his arms excitedly.

"What is it now, Spleenk?" he asked, letting the irritation slip into his voice. He swore to whatever god was listening, if Spleenk had come up with yet another stupid suggestion for what they should call their ship…

Spleenk took a few moments to catch his breath, before answering.

"I've got good news and bad news, sir," he said, "The good news is, a whole bunch of ships just showed up out of nowhere and have surrounded us! And it looks like they're all heavily armed!"

Lard Nar's skin went from dark grey to almost white as the blood drained from his face, and the soda can dropped from his hand as it went limp in shock; despite all this, however, he still managed to voice the first question that came to mind.

"H-How is that _good_ news?" he asked.

Spleenk frowned, and scratched his chin with his upper right arm.

"Oh… wait a minute," he said, "That's the _bad_ news."

"Then what's the good news?!" Lard Nar snapped, the color returning to his face as his anger over his subordinate's stupidity overpowered his fear over the situation.

"I found a ten-money coin!" Spleenk shouted happily, holding up said coin with his lower left arm.

THOWCK!

As Spleenk went flying from the punch he had just received to the jaw, Lard Nar dashed down the hall back towards the bridge. Not even giving the automatic doors a chance to fully slide open, the Resisty leader squeezed through them, skidding to a stop among the crowd of gathered freedom fighters, whom were all staring at the viewscreen in shock.

Floating directly in front of the Resisty ship was a vessel the likes of which Lard Nar had never seen before. It was shaped vaguely like a pyramid, its tip currently being aimed at them. Weapon emplacements were evenly scattered around the dark red-colored hull, stretching from the tip all the way back to the base of the pyramid, where the engines were located.

Quickly checking the sensors, Lard Nar found that at least a dozen more ships just like the one he was looking at were positioned in a circle around his ship, cutting off all routes of escape.

There was shocked silence on the bridge for several minutes, until the cloaked alien standing off to the side spoke up.

"Well, Captain," she said, "I'd just like to point out that this is what we get for answering a message from people we've never met."

"Shut it, Ixane!" Lard Nar snarled, "If anyone should be complaining, it's me – I was gone two minutes, and you guys just let us get surrounded! What is wrong with you people?!"

"Hey, it's not our fault," one of the other members said, "They just appeared out of nowhere!"

Lard Nar raised an eyebrow behind his goggles.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"It was like this," Shloonktapooxis said, "One minute there was nothing there, and then BAM! Space got all shimmery, and they were suddenly there."

"It seemed very similar to the cloaking mechanisms on a Megadoomer," Ixane added, "Except theirs actually, you know, _works._"

Lard Nar opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, a loud beeping emitted from one of the consoles. Tres, the three-headed agent, checked the console; continuing to look at it with two heads, he turned the third one to look at Lard Nar.

"They're hailing us, sir," he said.

The Resisty leader swallowed nervously, then gave the signal to open up communications with the other ship. He quickly ran a few ideas for what he was going to say through his head as the viewscreen went to static, before fully connecting with the other ship. However, all those thoughts were quickly forgotten as the image on the screen cleared up.

Glaring down at the assembled members of the Resisty was the most frightening creature any of them had ever seen. It seemed reptilian in nature, judging by the scales covering its body and the general shape of its head. Sprouting from its head were a pair of wicked-looking horns that curved forward past its face; Lard Nar and the others all simultaneously had the thought that they didn't want to experience those things – or the rather sharp-looking teeth it was baring at them – first hand. Adding to the rather ominous appearance of the unknown alien was the battle armor it was wearing: the black metal gleamed in the dim lighting of the room it was in.

As the Resisty collectively stared in shock at the terrifying creature before them, it finally spoke in a low, graveling voice that chilled them to their bones (those that actually _had_ bones, anyway).

"I am General Kumozen," the beast growled, "And you are the Resistance, correct?"

"Uh…" Lard Nar stumbled for words as he tried to get over his shock, "Actually, it's the 'Resisty', not the 'Resistance'."

One of Kumozen's scaly eyebrows rose, before he shook his head and muttered, "Imbeciles."

Lard Nar frowned; his anger over being insulted quickly overpowering his shock and fear.

"In case you've forgotten, General, _you_ are the one who contacted us," he pointed out, "Speaking of which, would you care to tell us who exactly it is you represent?"

"That is none of your concern, Vortian," Kumozen snarled, "Just know that my master is an enemy of the Irken Tallest, and wishes to see them dead."

_That_ immediately caught everyone's attention.

"Sweet! We've got allies!" Shloonktapooxis shouted, flipping 360 degrees in the air.

"We actually have a chance of winning now!" Betty the Blob yelled, vomiting in excitement.

"Conga!" Tres shouted, and moments later, everyone except Lard Nar and Ixane had formed a line and were now dancing around the bridge. Before either of the only two Resisty agents who had an IQ beyond the single-digits could break it up, however, their new supposed ally did so for them.

"Silence!" Kumozen roared. Instantly, the Resisty members stopped short and began cowering before the reptilian creature; Shloonktapooxis, for example, dove behind Lard Nar with a whimper, using him as a living shield. Smirking at the reaction he had received, Kumozen continued.

"Now then," he said, "I believe you have misinterpreted my intentions for this meeting. While my people are more than capable of dealing with the Empire, my master feels it would be wiser to first gather strength. So, even though we have every intention of facing the Tallest and their followers in battle eventually, for the time being we will simply provide you with aid."

"What kind of aid?" Ixane asked, unable to hide the curiosity in her voice.

In response, Kumozen gestured off-screen with a clawed hand. Seconds later, one of the consoles on the Resisty's bridge started beeping. Croix, the floating brain alien, hovered over to the console and tapped away at the controls.

"We're receiving an information package," he reported after a few seconds.

"Correct," Kumozen stated, "And contained within that package you will find all the security protocols, access codes, and overrides for the prison facilities on planet Vort."

Lard Nar's jaw went slack.

"How… how in all six hells that my people believe in did you get your hands on that information?" he asked, shocked beyond rational thought.

Kumozen's barely visible lips pulled up into a sneer.

"We have our ways, Vortian. We have our ways. Until we meet again."

"Wait!" Lard Nar shouted, "Assuming this is legit, how do we contact you again?"

"You don't," the General snarled, "_We_ shall be the ones who contact_ you._"

And without another word, the viewscreen went back to normal, returning to an outside view of the Resisty's ship just in time to show Kumozen's ship activate its cloak and shimmer out of sight. Around them, the other ships did like wise, disappearing one by one until the Resisty were seemingly alone. Lard Nar turned to look at Ixane, who was examining the sensors console, but she shook her head in response to his unasked question.

"Their cloak's perfect," she said, "I can't tell if they've really left, or if they're still here watching us."

Lard Nar shuddered at that thought and turned to look at the two spider-like aliens managing the helm.

"Get us out of here," he ordered, "We'll figure out whether or not the information they gave us is accurate later; for now, I just want to get to someplace where I'm sure we're not being watched."

The pilots saluted and set about their task. Just as they were about to send the ship into hyperspace, the doors to the bridge slid open and Spleenk entered, holding an icepack to his head. Seeing that the ships from before were gone, and that everyone seemed excited about something, he raised an eyebrow.

"Uh… what'd I miss?" he asked.

XXXXXXX

_Bridge, Kumozen's Flagship, Same Time_

Kumozen smirked as he watched the Resisty ship enter hyperspace in a flash of light. They were no doubt going to find a safe place to check that the information he had given them was legitimate. And when they found out that it _was_…

'It's so nice to see pawns playing their proper role,' he thought with a chuckle, before turning to his communications officer and ordering, "Establish a link with the _Leviathan_."

As the other reptilian being carried out his orders, Kumozen stood from his command chair, faced the viewscreen, and lowered himself to one knee. Seconds later, the image of Kumozen's master appeared on the screen, and he bowed his head in submissive respect.

"My lord," he said, "My task for Phase 1 is complete. The Resisty has been given the information as you wished."

"Excellent," Kumozen could hear the pleasure in his master's voice as he spoke, "Tell me, General, from what you observed, do you believe that those pack of idiots will do as we have anticipated?"

Kumozen was silent for several moments as he considered his answer.

"They seemed very… _eager_ to fight against the Empire, milord," he said at last, "I have no doubt that they will act within the parameters of your scenario."

The Master was silent for a few minutes himself, before finally speaking.

"Is there something you wish to say, General?" he asked.

The General licked his suddenly dry lips, afraid to speak his doubts; however, his master would know if he didn't, and there would be consequences for lying.

"My lord, I do not wish to doubt your wisdom," he said, "But why must we act through these weaklings? While your plan is of course brilliant, it seems overly elaborate; our forces are numerous now, and we hold a technological advantage over the Armada, so why do we not face them directly?"

Kumozen half-expected his master to silence him halfway through his speech, but the only reaction he received at the end was a small chuckle.

"I appreciate your zealous attitude, my loyal servant," he said, "but look at it tactically; the Armada still outnumbers us greatly. And technological advantages can only go so far. However, once the Resisty ranks are swollen by this prison break and they begin an open rebellion, and the other conflicts I plan to set into motion have begun, the Armada shall be divided and weakened more than enough for you and your brethren to sweep in and easily eliminate the _Massive_ - and the Tallest along with it - as well as those ships still protecting it."

Kumozen's blood was pumping fast now; the mere thought of battle was like a drug to him.

"As you wish it, my lord," he said, "We shall wait until these lesser beings have brought each other to their knees, and then we shall slaughter them all. And then, my master, the whole galaxy shall praise your glorious name!"

The reptilian clasped his fist to his shoulder in salute as he roared, "All hail Zim!"

On the viewscreen, the former Invader's maroon eyes glistened with a dark glee as the rest of his minions aboard the flagship took up the chant.

"All hail Zim! All hail Zim!" they shouted again and again.

"ALL HAIL ZIM!!!"

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**A/N: Okay, I know that for a story described as my most exciting yet, this opening was kind of slow. However, I was going for the dramatic set-up thing, trying to lay the groundwork for what's coming. And believe me, there will be **_**plenty**_** of action later on in this story.**

**BTW, if anyone's wondering, I'm taking a lot of the Resisty members' names from Invader Johnny's fic "Downfall", since I didn't want to refer to them as "the cloaked alien" or "the three-headed alien" or so forth all the time. For the members Johnny didn't name, I'll come up with names for them later. And speaking of the Resisty, since this is my first time writing for them, how'd I do?**

**Next chapter: We find out what Dib's been up to for the last three years, while the Resisty launch an attack on the Vort prisons.**

**Until then, read and review!**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Yes, I am not dead! Sorry about the really late update, but I got hit by writer's block (actually, bitch-slapped by it might be more accurate). But, it's here now, and I hope it's worth the wait.**

**As mentioned in last chapter's closing notes, this chapter we'll be having a combination of plot development (as we set up Dib's side of things in this story) and action (as the Resisty liberate the Vort prisons). And as for Zim and Jana… well, they won't be making a direct appearance quite yet, but their presence will be felt.**

**Read on!**

**Disclaimer: All non-canon characters belong to me. All canon characters belong to Jhonen Vasquez.**

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_Vort System, Resisty Ship, 1535 Hours Galactic Standard Time, Two Days Later_

The Resisty ship lay in orbit on the far side of one of the moons of Vort 5, using the moon's gravity to hide themselves from any passive long-range sensors that might be aimed in their direction. However, they had positioned the ship in such a way that they could still catch a glimpse of Vort Prime itself, which is exactly what Lard Nar was doing at the moment.

He stood in front of his command chair on the elevated section of the bridge, staring out the viewscreen at his homeworld. It had been far too long since he'd set foot on its surface or breathed the air of its atmosphere; he'd fled the moment that the Armada had appeared in orbit – since he'd known that, as one of Vort's top scientists, the Irkens would covet him as a prisoner – and had been on the run ever since. But now he was back, and despite the seriousness of his mission, he couldn't help but revel in the nostalgia of the sight before him.

The brown-purple-and-blue globe that was Vort was bathed in the blue glow of the local star, two moons orbiting it, along with a string of needle-shaped space stations. Those stations had originally been joint Irken/Vortian scientific research facilities, built by order of Tallest Miyuki after the peace treaty between the two species had been finalized. And thirty years later, they had all been shut down after Miyuki was killed in an incident later revealed to have been caused by one of her own people – though at the time, Tallest Spork was quick to blame it on the "filthy, _skaatel_ goats," as he called them. Now, the Irkens had perverted the stations, turning them into fortresses for the purpose of enforcing the subjugation of the planet below them (with the exception of Research Station Nine, which had been decommissioned altogether after Miyuki's death).

'Well, that's all going to change soon. Starting today,' Lard Nar thought, turning away from the viewscreen. With a purpose to his step, he made his way to the lower level of the bridge and over to the console that Ixane and Croix were working on, with most of the other Resisty members gathered around them. They'd spent almost two days examining the information Kumozen had given them before deciding that it was apparently legitimate; however, they were still taking the precaution of checking one last time before they carried out what was being called "Operation: Break As Many Vortians Out Of Prison As Possible Before The Irkens Show Up And Blow Us Up".

The name had been Spleenk's idea.

"Well?" the Resisty leader asked as he came up to the small crowd of his followers.

Croix turned his floating brain completely around to face Lard Nar (an act that never failed to creep the Vortian out) as he answered, "The codes still seem to be in proper order, sir. But we won't know for sure until we use them that they actually work."

"Speaking of which," Ixane spoke up, "I'd like to point something out before we do this. Even if these codes work – and that's a pretty big 'if' – you don't honestly expect to liberate the entire planet, do you?"

"Of course not," Lard Nar replied with a wave of his hand, "But we should be able to free enough soldiers and scientists to boost our strength to a considerable level. Plus, the civilians and those fighters we can't bring with us should be able to keep the Irkens busy here on Vort while we regroup elsewhere. And at some point in the future, we come back to finish the job."

"Why can't we just stay here and fight?" Shlooktapooxis asked.

"Because we'd be outnumbered, outgunned, and disorganized to the point of not being able to fight back as a group," Lard Nar explained, "If we perform a hit-and-run operation, we can not only get the forces and supplies we need, but also have a chance of organizing everything into a fighting force capable of working together, and that will actually stand a chance of fighting back against the Armada. Got it?"

Shloonktapooxis wasn't listening. His attention was focused completely on a fly that was buzzing around in the air in front of him. Seeing that his entire explanation had just been wasted, Lard Nar slapped himself in the forehead.

"_Oy gev,_" he muttered, before turning to look at Ixane.

"Okay, from now on, _you_ are my second-in-command."

Despite the fact that her cloak hid her from sight, everyone could tell that Ixane was beaming with smug pride and satisfaction as Shloonktapooxis blinked out of his stupor and turned to look at Lard Nar.

"You say something boss?" he asked.

Lard Nar simply rolled his eyes and turned to Croix.

"Get started," he ordered.

Croix saluted, and began typing away furiously at his console. A few minutes later, there was a pinging sound from the console, and the floating brain let out a whoop of excitement.

"We're in!" he shouted, "We have total access to the mainframes of all of the surface prisons!"

The Resisty members burst into wild cheers, before Lard Nar quickly calmed them down.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves people," he said calmly, "Croix, what about the orbital fortresses?"

"Sorry, sir, but General Kumozen only provided us with the codes for the prisons. I've tried, but we have no access to the fortresses."

That sobered everyone's mood almost immediately, as they realized that they still had to deal with almost a dozen heavily armed battle stations if they wanted to carry through with their plans for the day. Ixane was the first to voice the group's opinion on this matter.

"Well, we're _forshked_," she deadpanned.

Lard Nar didn't bother retorting; he was too busy putting his considerable intellect to work on finding a solution to this problem. And as much as it pained him, there was only one course he could take.

"Use the codes we do have then," he ordered softly, "Shut down the security systems in all the prisons. The fortresses will no doubt send forces to deal with the breakouts and riots that are bound to occur, and when that happens we'll have a better chance of taking them out."

The Resisty members who were smart enough to realize what he was saying stared at him in shock.

"You want to use your own people as cannon fodder?!" shouted Me'nek, a member who resembled an armless, four-legged insect.

Lard Nar scowled. "It's for the greater good. Besides, casualties shouldn't be too high; my people will be fighting for their freedom and their homes, and that is the deadliest kind of opponent the Irkens will ever have the misfortune of fighting."

"Except your people – with a few exceptions – aren't soldiers," Ixane pointed out, "They're scientists. They won't know the first thing about fighting, especially against an enemy like the Irkens."

"I know that!" Lard Nar snapped, "But our only other option is to turn around and leave, and I will _not_ do that! I already abandoned my people to the Irkens once, so if we have the ability to save at least some of them, then we are going to do it, because I refuse to abandon them again! Do you hear me?! Never again!"

The rest of the Resisty flinched and backed away as their Captain vented almost a decade's worth of anger and survivor's guilt. For several moments, the only sound on the bridge was that of Lard Nar's heavy breathing, before he composed himself. Taking a calming breath and wiping his face clear of any tears that had slipped from his eyes during his emotional period, he continued on in a soft tone.

"I know that most of my people would rather die fighting than continue to live as the Irkens' slaves. So that's what we're going to do; we are going to give them a chance to fight back, whether it is by our sides or on the planet's surface. So, Croix, if you would please just do as I ordered, I'd appreciate it."

The floating brain glanced at Ixane, but the newly appointed second-in-command merely gave a small nod. Taking this as his cue, Croix began entering the long series of codes needed to shut down all of the security systems for the hundreds of prisons scattered across Vort. After watching this for a few seconds, Lard Nar turned around and slowly walked back to his command chair, collapsing into it with a heavy sigh. The other Resisty members watched him go, some of them still a little shaken by his outburst.

"Should we be worried?" Spleenk whispered to Ixane.

The hooded being shook her head sympathetically.

"No," she said quietly, "Personally, I don't blame him. After all these years, we finally have the chance to free his homeworld, and everyone just wants to give up without even trying. If it were my planet, I'd probably be pissed too. Plus, he has slightly more… _personal_ reasons for wanting to strike back at the Irkens."

Spleenk gave her an inquisitive look, but before the conversation could continue, Croix announced that he was ready to transmit the codes. He, Ixane, and Spleenk turned to look at Lard Nar, who was staring out the viewscreen with his head being supported by his interlaced fingers. For several seconds he was motionless and silent, and then he gave the final authorization in the form of an almost imperceptible nod.

Minutes later, panicked calls began filling the Irken communication channels they were listening in on as across Vort countless prisoners began taking advantage of the deactivated security systems. And a few minutes after that, fighter craft began pouring out of the orbital stations. Watching those ships descend onto the planet in order to quell the riots he had started, Lard Nar felt the blood of his people begin to stain his hands.

"May the Great Creator forgive me," he muttered, as weapon fire once again began lighting up the atmosphere of the world he called home.

XXXXXXX

_Vort System, Kumonzen's Flagship, Same Time_

"Well it's about time," Kumozen muttered, tapping his clawed fingers against the armrest of his command chair, "What were they waiting for, an invitation?"

His cloaked ship had laid in wait in the system for the Resisty to arrive and unknowingly carry out their part of Zim's master plan, only for the rebel group's ship to merely sit there for two days doing nothing. But it now seemed, judging by the activity occurring in Vort's orbit and atmosphere, that Lard Nar and his pack of morons had finally decided to act.

"Dance puppets," the General whispered with a chuckle, "Dance to the tune of the Master's will, and set the stage for your own downfall."

"Sir," the communications officer spoke up, "We've received a communiqué from the _Leviathan_. The Master and Mistress are demanding an update on the situation."

"Inform them that the Resisty has _finally_ made their move," Kumozen stated, letting some of his frustration seep into his voice, "Also tell them that as soon as these fools retreat from the system, we shall depart as well."

As the communications officer began composing the message he was to relay to their master, Kumozen turned to the pilots, both of who had come to attention at his last statement.

"Begin warming up the hyperspace drive and plot a course back to the _Leviathan_," he ordered, "I don't believe we'll be here much longer."

Even as Kumozen said that, the engines of the Resisty ship flared to life, and it shot forward towards the stations orbiting the planet. This brought a smile to Kumozen's scaly lips, and another chuckle worked its way up through his throat.

"Yes, I do believe this will be over very soon."

XXXXXXX

_NASAPLACE, Earth, 10:15 PM Local Time, Same Day_

Dib Membrane leaned against the wall of the hanger bay, simply staring at the vessel before him. It was a crude mixture of human and Irken technology; the boxy, inelegant body did not at all match the large ion engines sticking out of the back. Dib also knew from personal experience that the interior was something akin to a compact military bunker – or, at the very least, a fallout shelter from the '50s – yet was outfitted with the most advanced computer technology known to mankind. This was, of course, due in no small part to the fact that they were reverse-engineered from the onboard computer contained within the pod Dib had "liberated" from Zim's space station three years earlier. Overall, it was an ugly, mish-mashed, eye sore.

It also happened to be the ship that would – in just a little under twelve hours – be taking a crew of humans from around the world (most of them with either SEN or military backgrounds) on humanity's first journey into deep space. And Dib would be among them.

It might seem odd to some to be sending a 19-year old into space, but they would have to take into account the fact that Dib was the only person on the planet who was even _close_ to being a genuine expert on any alien life they might encounter. Of course, the only aliens he was an expert on was the Irkens, and even that was limited to his experiences with Zim, Jana, Tak, and that one time he'd managed to communicate with the Tallest.

Mostly, the only reason that the higher-ups in the SEN were letting Dib go was because they figured it was the only way to keep him quiet over the fact that he was the one who'd done all the hard work in figuring out how to fight back against the GESS – as opposed to the official story, which was that the Network had been the ones to deduce that the genetic monstrosities had a weakness to high-frequency noises – and also that Dib had been the one to capture the alien technology used to develop the ship he was now staring at.

Frankly, Dib didn't care if the Network took all the credit. He had done what he did because it was the right thing to do, not for fame, and that was the same reason he was going on this space expedition. Officially, the expedition's mission was peaceful exploration, but the real reason the SEN was backing it was because they were hoping to make contact with enemies of the Irken Empire. This particular goal had been Dib's idea – even if Zim hadn't succeeded yet in overthrowing the Tallest and taking their place, the Irkens were still a threat. They did take over planets and wipe out whole civilizations practically for fun, after all. So, how long would it be before they came to Earth anyway?

Dib was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of someone approaching. Looking away from the ship, he was greeted to the sight of Agent Yeti walking towards him – three years after their first meeting, and that was still the only name Dib knew to call him by (apparently, Dib was the only SEN member who was comfortable with being known by his real name). He also happened to be heading up the security detail that would be accompanying the space expedition.

"Funny way to be spending your last night on the planet," he commented, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he came to a stop a few feet away from Dib.

"How so?" Dib asked.

"Well, I'm just saying, instead of spending all night staring at the ship, you should be enjoying what free time you have left," Yeti said with a shrug, "You know, walk the streets, sit in the parks, go to your favorite restaurants, stuff like that. I'm especially surprised you're not doing something with your family, seeing as this will be the last time you see them for what could be a long time."

Dib raised an eyebrow. "Have you _met_ my sister?"

Yeti chuckled in a slightly nervous fashion; he had indeed met Gaz on a couple of occasions.

"Point taken," he admitted, "but what about your father?"

Dib merely sighed at that.

"He doesn't have the time," he muttered, "If anything, Dad's been even busier these past few years than he ever was. Mostly trying to keep up with some of the advancements that the Network's managed to reverse-engineer from the tech I stole from Zim. You know, there are times I almost think he resents me for being right about Zim being an alien. If I had been wrong – if I had just been his 'poor, crazy son' – then he would still be the world's top scientist. Now he's risking being dropped down a few notches."

"…Your family has some _really_ big issues, doesn't it?" Yeti asked.

Dib's only response to this was to give a few humorless chuckles as he turned his attention back to the spaceship.

"Hence the reason I'm spending tonight out here alone."

"Fair enough," Yeti said, as he turned and began walking away, "Well, I'm going to go take my own advice. See you in the morning, Mothman."

"See ya," Dib replied in a mutter, not taking his eyes off of the ship. Reaching up with one hand, he absently rubbed at his scar; maybe it was just anticipation, but it had been tingling almost nonstop lately. Not in the burning pain that served as a warning whenever Jana was near, but more like a phantom pain, as if it were warning him of danger somewhere further away.

As far as Dib was concerned, the morning couldn't come soon enough. The sooner he got out there and tracked that pair of Irken psychopaths down, the better things would be for everyone.

He just prayed that he wasn't too late.

XXXXXXX

_Vort System, Resisty Ship, 1605 Hours Galactic Standard Time_

Lard Nar gripped the armrests of his command chair as the bridge shook from impact. For half an hour – which felt a lot longer – he and his crew had been fighting against the Irken defenses spewing out of the battle stations. It helped some that a lot of the ships were still occupied on the planet's surface – even more so now that some of the escaped prisoners had managed to capture military weapons and vehicles that had been in or near the prisons during the breakout and were using them to fight back against their oppressors.

'Fitting, considering we designed most of those weapons in the first place,' Lard Nar thought to himself, trying to ignore the usual pang of guilt that always accompanied that thought. Now wasn't the time to angst; he needed to focus.

"Status report!" he shouted over the din of battle.

"Shields at 62 percent and dropping," Croix responded as the bridge shook again.

"Reroute power from all non-essential systems. I don't care if you shut down everything except the plumbing, keep the shields running!" Lard Nar ordered, before turning to Ixane.

"What's the status of the allied ships?" he asked.

"I've managed to program the weapon systems to recognize them as friendly, so we don't shoot them by mistake," she replied, "That is, unless certain idiots don't watch where they're shooting."

As she added that bit, she jerked her head at Spleenk and Shloonktapooxis, both of whom were laughing wildly while rapidly hitting the firing buttons for the weapons they were in charge of, barely even aiming while doing so.

"Moving along," she muttered in a tone that implied an eye-roll, "Many of the ships are now heading to orbit to assist us. Give it a few minutes, and they'll take some of the pressure off of us."

"Good," Lard Nar said, "In the meantime, transfer control of the main cannon to me. I'm not just going to sit back and not do anything this time."

Ixane nodded and entered a sequence into her console. In response, a joystick popped up from a slot in the armrest of Lard Nar's chair and a holographic screen appeared in front of him, showing the view from a camera hidden on top of the main plasma cannon at the rear of the ship. As Lard Nar gripped the joystick, a targeting reticule appeared on the holo-screen; Lard Nar quickly moved it towards the nearest Irken vessel he could locate, a Viral Tank that was coming towards his ship from the starboard. Quickly pressing the firing button, Lard Nar sent a large blast of plasma at the Viral Tank, cutting through its shields and grazing the side of the ship.

As the Viral Tank, venting atmosphere, began to try and limp away, Lard Nar fired again. The second blast punched through the Irken ship, triggering a series of secondary explosions that tore it apart. Lard Nar couldn't quite explain the satisfied thrill that ran through him at that sight, as he wasn't even a remotely violent being by nature; that was one of the reasons why he became a scientist instead of joining Vort's relatively small military. But considering the reasons he had for hating the Irkens in the first place…

'They deserve it,' he reassured himself, 'I can be sure that my soul's been condemned to the depths of the six hells for all the blood on my hands, but it's worth it if I can make these Irken _shmakeks_ pay for everything they've done.'

With that thought in mind, Lard Nar entered a red haze of combat, almost absentmindedly targeting ships and firing, barely even noticing the additional fire being supplied by the other weapons on the ship, or when several Irken ships commandeered by the liberated Vortian prisoners finally joined the fray, cutting a swath through the fleet of Imperial ships surrounding the Resisty ship. It wasn't until Ixane grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him forcibly did he snap out of it.

"Captain," she hissed into his ear, "Get a hold of yourself!"

Lard Nar blinked, automatically releasing the joystick as he came back to his senses. Looking around, he realized that, luckily, no one but Ixane was focused on him, and therefore hadn't noticed his little bout of temporary bloodlust. And the reason that no one else was focused on him was because they were all distracted by the sight of the captured Irken ships forming a screen around their own ship, and the ships still controlled by the Irkens regrouping around the orbital fortresses.

"The other ships are asking for orders," Ixane said, "Apparently, you're a bit of a celebrity; everyone knows who you are, and they know you're in charge."

Lard Nar wasn't sure what to think about that, so he took a few moments to clear his head and think clearly. They now had a sizeable fighting force, which was apparently more organized than he had thought it would be, but the Irkens still outnumbered them. And there were still the fortresses to deal with; for some reason, the Irkens hadn't utilized the stations' weapons yet, but the minute they did, they could easily destroy the captured ships in only a few minutes. That only left one course of action.

"We stick to the plan," he said, "We'll retreat back to the Medgic system. Tell the other ship commanders that we have no choice; if they put up any argument, then remind them that we're still vastly outgunned and outnumbered, and if we fight anymore here today, we'll get wiped out. We need to leave _now._"

Ixane nodded and quickly relayed the orders. Despite some grumbling from some of the other captains – as Lard Nar had anticipated – the newly captured fleet began retreating minutes later. The grumblers were allowed a little more fighting after all, as they were assigned to be the rearguard, protecting the rest of the fleet from the Irken ships, which began chasing them as they fled from Vort's gravity well. Just as the fortresses finally brought their weapons online, most of the fleet – including the Resisty ship – jumped to hyperspace. A couple of the rearguard ships were hit by the long-range ion cannons and were blown apart, but the rest also managed to clear the planet's gravity well and escape.

Behind them, the frustrated and infuriated Irkens commanders of the fortress stations began beating their subordinates, alternating between ordering them to target the largest gatherings of rioting escapees on the surface and demanding an explanation as to why the weapon systems had all gone dead right at the beginning of the battle.

And as for the cause of that malfunction…

XXXXXXX

_Kumozen's Flagship, Same Time_

Kumozen gave a throaty chuckle as he helped himself to the contents of a ration pack, tearing the meat of a genetically grown chicken to pieces between his razor-sharp teeth. When it became apparent that the battle would take longer than he had first thought, he had decided to enjoy a meal along with the "show". And besides, it had been a glorious opportunity to test a newly developed computer virus on the orbital fortresses.

"The maggots did rather well, wouldn't you agree, Sornak?" he asked his lieutenant, who was standing at the primary weapons console to his left.

"Indeed, sir," Sornak said with a nod, "Though I'm curious; why didn't we include the virus in the information package we gave the Resisty at our initial meeting? Then they could have neutralized the fortresses themselves and saved us the trouble."

"True," Kumozen admitted, "But think long term. Once the Master takes control of the Empire and we finally eliminate these fools, we do not want them to have a weapon that they can use against us."

Sornak raised a scaly eyebrow. "Couldn't Voi alter our own systems to be immune to the virus? He is the one who designed it in the first place."

Kumozen snorted as he cracked a picked-clean bone in half to expose the marrow within.

"I trust that Vortian about as far as he is capable of throwing one of us," he stated as he began sucking the marrow out of the bone, "If not for the fact that the Master finds his technical skills useful, I would have eliminated him by now."

"I would think that would be the Mistress's job."

Chuckling again, Kumozen placed the bones of his meal back into the ration pack and dropped it into a waste disposal tube next to his command.

"Regardless," he said, "I believe we've overstayed our welcome in this system. Take us back to base."

The last order was aimed at the pilots, who nodded in confirmation. Minutes later, the cloaked ship jumped to hyperspace in an invisible flash of light, carrying Zim's soldiers back to him.

Phase 1 of Zim's master plan was now complete… it was time to move on to Phase 2.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

**A/N: And this is finally done. I once again apologize for the long wait for this chapter, and I hope that it doesn't suck too badly.**

**BTW, what does everyone think of my interpretation of Lard Nar? If he seems a little too angsty, that's because I recently discovered Tyoria's oneshot "Price of Pride", which is a really dark introspective on our favorite Vortian. I figure I'll tone it down a little in future chapters, but I wanted to establish a good psychological base for Nar as soon as possible.**

**Next chapter (which hopefully will be up sooner than this one): Dib's mission begins, while we get some insight into Zim's plans.**

**Until then, whenever it is, read and review!**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Well, here's the next chapter of "Galactic Armageddon". I am so very, very, **_**very**_** sorry for how long this took, but it seems like ever since the last couple of chapters of "Evolution", I've had extreme difficulty with scenes revolving around Dib, no matter the length, which then slows down the writing of the rest of the chapter.**

**Anyway, here I let you all in on a few more details of Zim's plot, while Dib begins his own mission. Speaking of which, sorry Dib's getting so little attention, but right now he's in a subplot. Later, when it ties into the main story, he'll get more focus (which will hopefully help with the above mentioned writing problems).**

**Also, sorry if this chapter is exposition heavy, but I figure if I get it out of the way now, I won't have to write it in later chapters.**

**Disclaimer: I own Jana, Kumozen, and the other OCs. All other characters belong to Jhonen Vasquez.**

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

_Feg'Nec Nebula, Sector 38352-YFR, 1830 Hours Galactic Standard Time_

Nebulae, as most scientists could explain, are massive clouds of dust, plasma, and base elements, which are sometimes formed when a star goes supernova. But what most scientists didn't realize was that, with the proper refinement, those base elements could be processed and transformed into just about any other material. And that was exactly what Zim was using this particular nebula for.

Within the Feg'Nec nebula, which itself lay on the outskirts of the Irken Empire's territory, Zim had established both a headquarters and a mining facility. As Kumozen's ship exited hyperspace and de-cloaked, it passed by several drone ships that resembled nothing more than giant vacuum cleaners as they sucked up large quantities of the nebula gases. And when the gigantic sacs connected to these ships filled up, they would then zip away, heading towards the large automated factory stations, where the gases would be channeled into the processing mechanisms. The base elements contained within the gases would then undergo the lengthy procedure of being manipulated and altered into whatever form was required – mostly building materials for the vast fleet Zim had been building for the better part of the past three years.

Kumozen's flagship now passed through a portion of that fleet, which was standing guard over Zim's mobile base, the _Leviathan_. The protective screen of ships consisted of several dozen pyramid-shaped _Rinimikk_-class battle cruisers (like the one used by Kumozen), and even more of the small, one-pilot fighter craft known as Slayers, which were large delta-shaped vessels with scorpion tail-like weapon emplacements sticking out of the rear and curving over the top. But as impressive as the Rinimikks and Slayers may have been, they paled in comparison to the ship that they guarded over.

The _Leviathan_ easily rivaled the _Massive_ in size; but aside from that detail, there was no similarity whatsoever to any other Irken vessel. The enormous black-and-crimson ship's main section was roughly spheroid in shape, which was slightly detracted from by the gigantic engines sticking out of the back and by the four huge prongs – two on each side of the ship – that curved outwards for miles until coming to points that faced directly forward. These prongs were tipped with oversized plasma-based Death Cannons, similar in design to the primary weapon systems aboard the _Massive_, and were complimented by hundreds – if not thousands – of smaller ion cannons spread along the prongs and the surface of the ship.

Kumozen's Rinimikk passed through the large space between the prongs, heading towards the lower section of the _Leviathan,_ which was ringed with large force field-protected openings that led to the hanger bays. After passing by several other Rinimikks and Slayers, the flagship came to a stop in midair, hovering for several seconds before lowering to the floor with a dull thud. A ramp then detached from the ship's side and lowered to the ground, and moments later Kumozen exited his vessel. Taking a moment to revel in returning to the only home he had ever known, he then descended the ramp, Sornak and the rest of his crew following after him.

"General Kumozen," the voice of Zim's semi-loyal computer boomed from the ceiling, "The Master would like to speak with you immediately."

"Acknowledged," Kumozen responded, "Tell the Master I will be with him in a few minutes."

With that, Kumozen parted ways with his crew (Sornak instantly assuming command of the group) and made his way to the central elevator. While the other elevators led to various parts of the ship, only the central one connected with Zim's throne room, which served as the bridge and nerve center of the _Leviathan_.

As the elevator shot up the tube, Kumozen stood calmly in the center of the small capsule, arms crossed over his chest, the flaring of his nostrils as he breathed being the only sign that he was alive. Although, when the elevator slowed to a stop earlier than it should have, the reptilian being did raise a scaly eyebrow and grunted in annoyance as he realized that someone else was using the elevator. And when the doors slid open, Kumozen let out a growl of irritation as he realized just whom he was going to be sharing the elevator with.

Tamnis Voi, the Vortian more commonly known as Prisoner 777, gulped slightly as he gazed up at Kumozen, who glared back down at him. Shaking slightly as beads of sweat formed on his purple skin, Voi entered the elevator, making sure to stand off to the side and put as much distance as possible between the two of them.

"General," he greeted nervously, as the elevator began moving upwards again.

"Voi," Kumozen replied, "I take it the Master summoned you to this meeting as well?"

"Yes he did," the Vortian replied, staying silent for several moments before asking, "So… how did your mission go?"

Kumozen smirked in a sinister manner. "You mean, how many of your fellow goats were let out of their pens because of my actions?"

Voi frowned at the racial slur, but he knew better than to respond to it; Kumozen had said it with the sole intention of antagonizing him, and he knew it. The General – and in truth, all of Zim's home-grown soldiers – despised him, which was most likely due to the well known fact that unlike them, he was being forced to serve the renegade Irken, and therefore had no real loyalty to him; the only reason Voi continued to serve Zim at all was because he knew that the alternative was a slow, painful death.

Seeing that his comment wasn't going to get a response, Kumozen frowned and glared at the Vortian before answering his previous question.

"I am unsure how many escaped from the prisons, but it did seem to be a reasonably sized number. To be honest, I was surprised that that imbecile managed to make such good use of what we supplied him with."

"I wouldn't underestimate Lard Nar if I were you," Voi said, "I worked with him long enough to know that he is determined, loyal, and downright brilliant."

"And yet he named his resistance group 'The Resisty'," Kumozen replied with a snort.

"At least he's not stupid enough to take on the entire galaxy at once!" Voi snapped, before realizing what he was saying and slapping a hand over his mouth.

Unfortunately, that was a little too late to be effective. Kumozen growled dangerously, lowering himself and turning his head so that his horns were pointing directly at Voi.

"Care to repeat that?" he snarled, "And if so, then think very carefully before you speak this time, Vortian."

Voi was sweating bullets as he attempted to stutter out a reply, but before he could come up with one, the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open.

"Something wrong, General?" a familiar voice asked.

Both occupants of the elevator looked up to see Jana standing in front of the open elevator, an antenna cocked in slight confusion as she stared at them. Kumozen quickly altered his stance, going from threatening Voi to bowing to Jana.

"No, Mistress," he replied, leering out of the corner of his eye at the still cowering Vortian, "Though I believe that the Master would be _very_ interested in hearing that Voi is having doubts on the Plan."

"Is he now?" Jana asked, smirking at the trembling Vortian, who kept glancing back and forth between the five-and-a-half-foot tall assassin and the eight-foot tall reptilian, wondering which one he should be more afraid of. After letting him sweat for a few minutes, Jana finally turned around and headed down the short hallway from the elevator to the main doors of Zim's throne room. The other two watched her go, and then Kumozen growled slightly, making Voi yelp and quickly dash down the hallway, the General chuckling as he followed after.

The two entered the throne room which was, as usual, lit only by the exterior glow of the nebula shining through the viewport situated behind Zim's throne – Voi had once asked about the reasoning behind this, and had been told that it was "for effect". Well, if the effect was to try and make the throne room seem creepy, then it was working – aside from the throne itself, which sat on an elevated platform reached by a long staircase, everything was cloaked in shadows. The only reason either Zim or Jana were visible was because their jewel-like eyes gleamed in the dim lighting, and that only worked with Jana when her hood was down.

As Voi and Kumozen entered the room – the latter dropping to one knee as he did so – Jana was already standing next to the throne, whispering something to Zim. The former Invader looked as he so often did these days, intimidating and yet emitting an aura that demanded nothing but the utmost respect. He had long since abandoned the human-style clothing he had worn as a disguise on Earth, trading it for a set of armor that was colored the same crimson-and-black as the _Leviathan's_ hull. Overall, he looked very much the overlord he had long imagined himself as.

Although, one had to admit that that particular image was slightly detracted from by GIR sitting on top of the throne happily humming the "Doom Song" while drinking a SuckMonkey and by Minimoose sitting curled up on his master's lap like some kind of big purple cat with antlers.

Noticing that they had entered the room, the two Irkens turned to look at them; Jana was sporting a nasty smirk, while Zim had a sickly-sweet grin plastered on his face. Voi had realized a long time ago that when the would-be Tallest gave him that look, it usually meant trouble for him.

"Tamnis," he greeted, "We were just talking about you. Now then, what's this I hear about you doubting my plans?"

Voi quickly attempted to empty his mind, to clear away all thoughts of how foolhardy and insane he considered Zim's plans to be, and how he expected them all to –

Zim's hand clenched into a fist, and Voi fell to his knees, gagging as an invisible vice formed around his throat.

"You should know by now that you can't hide your thoughts from me, Tamnis," Zim said coldly, "And you should know better than to doubt me; 'foolhardy and insane', am I?"

As the pressure on his throat increased ever so slightly, Voi attempted to choke out a reply in his defense. The point became moot, however, when Zim released his hold a few seconds later.

"You're fortunate that I still require your services, Tamnis," Zim growled, "Still, from now on, try and stay a little more… positive. Understood?"

"Y-Yes… My Lord," Voi choked out, massaging his neck to restore the proper blood flow.

Zim merely glared at the Vortian for a moment, before turning his attention to Kumozen, who had watched everything with an amused expression on his reptilian face. Noticing that his master was now looking at him, Kumozen bowed his head in respectful submission.

"General, your report, if you would," Zim said.

"Yes, Master," Kumozen replied, getting to his feet and producing a hand-held holographic projector, which he activated, projecting a 3-D image of the battle recorded by his ship.

"I love this show," GIR cooed; everyone ignored him.

"As you can see," Kumozen narrated as the recording played, "The Resisty shut down all security systems in all of the prisons on Vort simultaneously, which resulted in massive rioting and prison breaks planet-wide. When the Irkens responded by unleashing the majority of the fleets stationed in the orbital fortresses, that was when the Resisty revealed themselves and attacked, at which point I ordered the use of the computer virus designed by Voi to shut down the fortresses' weapon systems, in order to keep the simpletons from being wiped out before they cease being of use to us."

"So, the virus worked completely, eh? Excellent work, Tamnis," Zim said while scratching at one of Minimoose's antlers, gaining a contented squeak from the purple robot.

"Isn't that why you 'recruited' me?" Voi asked bitterly, "Because I'm one of the best?"

"True," Zim replied with a chuckle, "Carry on General."

"Yes, Master," Kumozen said, "The Resisty actually surprised me with how well they then performed in battle against the Irken ships still in orbit; however, if the escapees on the surface had not managed to steal ships and join the battle, Lard Nar and his band of imbeciles would have been overwhelmed and exterminated. After the rebel ships joined up with them, the Resisty fled the system. I'm not certain how many prisoners escaped with them…"

"2,542 prisoners in 127 ships," Jana spoke up nonchalantly. When Voi and Kumozen stared at her, she shrugged as she responded, "It was confirmed by our spy in the Armada just before you arrived, General. We just needed your report to fill in the details of the battle itself."

"I don't suppose you're ever going to tell me who this spy of yours is, are you?" Voi asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No," Zim stated bluntly, "He's an old friend of mine, whom I've talked into switching loyalty from the Tallest to me. That's all you need to know; his name is irrelevant."

"What's wrong, don't trust me?" Voi asked sarcastically. This gained a chuckle from the renegade Irken.

"Not a chance," he said, before waving his hand dismissively, "In any case, you'd best hope that the rest of what you promised me works as well as this virus did. I really would hate to have to terminate our… arrangement prematurely."

"What arrangement?" Voi snapped, "I'm your _forshking_ slave!"

"Actually, I believe the proper term is 'indentured servant'," Jana replied dryly, "You'll be free to go just as soon as you finish working off the debt you owe Lord Zim for setting you free from your imprisonment."

"Out of one cage and into another," Voi muttered, "And you've been telling me that for three years."

"Your debt will not be paid off until after your efforts have resulted in the Master's victory," Kumozen growled, "And in any case, you should be grateful that the Master is, in his infinite generosity, willing to give you something in exchange for your service, and is not simply forcing it from you."

"He _is_ forcing my service from me, you overgrown iguana!" Voi snapped, apparently ignoring the fact that Kumozen was more than capable of snapping him in half, "Which you'd realize, if you weren't such a lapdog for this lunatic!"

Kumozen snarled, and with lightning-quick reflexes, lashed out at the Vortian. However, before his claws could make contact with Voi's flesh, Zim lifted his hand and telekinetically pinned him in place. Voi blinked, then quickly jumped back as he realized how close the claws were to his face.

"I do believe you're no longer needed for this meeting, Tamnis," Zim stated coldly, "Go, and make sure that the preparations for the rest of the Plan are in place."

"Y-Yes, sir," Voi repeated, quickly dashing out the door.

"Oh, and Tamnis?" Zim called after him.

"Yes?" Voi called back timidly.

In response, Zim lifted the hand that wasn't holding Kumozen still, and made several small gestures; this resulted in GIR – who had finished his SuckMonkey and was now wearing it as a hat – to fly through the air towards Voi, who instinctively caught him.

"I think you need to spend some quality time with GIR," Zim added with a smirk.

"Oh, goody," Voi groaned as he walked into the elevator.

"I'ma gonna eat yo' head!" GIR cried cheerfully, jumping out of Voi's arms and biting one of his horns. Voi's rather obscene response to this was cut off as the elevator doors slid shut and the capsule descended down the tube. Zim then turned his attention back to Kumozen, releasing him from his hold. The reptilian being looked thoroughly abashed as he lowered himself back down onto his knees and bowed to Zim.

"Forgive my outburst, Master," he said, "But that filthy goat's disrespect is simply intolerable at times."

"Fair enough, I suppose," Zim replied, "But bear in mind that, despite the fact that Tamnis is _skaatel_, his genius is on par with my own… at least, on technical terms. I created you and your brethren myself, but without Tamnis's aid, I never would have been able to design and construct the _Leviathan_ and the rest of the fleet, or the viral weapons that will insure our coming victory."

"And what will become of Voi afterwards?" Kumozen asked, "I somehow doubt, given all that he knows, that we can risk actually letting him going free."

Both Irkens shared a glance, and then Jana turned to Kumozen with a smirk.

"Well, General," she said slyly, "Perhaps at that point, you will be kind enough to do a little pest control for us."

Kumozen's scaly lips curled up into a smirk as he replied, "It would be my pleasure, Mistress."

"Well, now that that's settled," Zim said, "General, go and make sure the others are prepared for battle; you won't be needed for Phase 2, but you will be important in Phase 3… and soon after, we shall have our conquest. Be ready."

"Thy will be done, Master," Kumozen said. Bowing once more to both Irkens, he then turned and left the room. After he left, Zim turned to Jana, who had a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Problem?" he asked.

"Not really," Jana said, "It's just that, I sometimes wonder why we had to program the GEST with such obsessive loyalty – every time we get in an argument with Voi over strategy, Kumozen takes every one of his comments as an insult towards you that needs avenging."

"Hmm," Zim said, tapping a finger against his chin in mock-thought, "Allowing his loyalty to blind him, and thus making him snap at every offensive comment, no matter how slight it is. Now who does that remind me of?"

As he finished speaking, he smirked at Jana, who flushed in embarrassment and looked away. Chuckling a little, Zim gently nudged Minimoose out of his lap, then stood and walked over to his mate, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and pulling her close. The green-eyed assassin smiled at that, relaxing into Zim's embrace and letting her head lean back against his shoulder.

"I know that Kumozen's overly-obsessive level of loyalty can be rather… _aggravating_ at times, even if my ego does enjoy the constant praise and near-worship," Zim admitted, "But, bear in mind that due to their higher level of intelligence – combined with their basic animal ferocity – we can't afford to have anything less than absolute loyalty programmed into the GEST. The GESS could have been controlled by a show of force even without the control chips; that's not the case here, the GEST are too smart for that. Them turning against us could be catastrophic. But, thanks to the amount of loyalty programming fed into their minds from the moment of birth-"

"Yes, I know, milord," Jana said, while snuggling up closer to him, "Even if the chips were somehow destroyed or deactivated, the GEST would still stay loyal, because it's all they know. Though I still say that between the two of us, we could handle any of them that would dare rebel."

"Perhaps – and what have I told you about being so formal when we're alone?"

"Sorry. Force of habit… Zim," Jana replied, turning her head around to face her master and leaning in to kiss him. Zim returned it in kind, and neither Irken came up for air until an uncomfortable-sounding squeak reminded them that Minimoose was still in the room.

"Shall we take this somewhere more private?" Zim asked with a grin.

In response, Jana linked arms with him, and the pair walked off towards a corner of the room that lit up as a secret door opened, revealing the entrance to their shared bedchamber. In there, they would – among other things better left unsaid – continue to plot and scheme for the future they had planned for themselves.

A future that would eventually include a little trip, _en masse_, back to a certain blue-and-green planet they both hated… in order to watch it burn.

XXXXXXX

_NASAPLACE, Earth, 9:45 AM Local Time_

Dib took a deep breath to calm himself. He and the rest of the crew of the exploration ship – which had, for no apparent good or smart reason, been named the _Magellan_ – were getting ready for launch. There were twelve scientists (which Dib was counted among in his advisory position), and twenty security officers (including Agent Yeti), in addition to the flight crew and the joint leaders of the expedition, Captain Derek Robertson (formerly of the U.S. Air Force) and SEN Senior Agent Nessie.

Neither Dib nor Yeti liked Nessie; he was an egotistic glory hound who didn't care who he had to push around to get what he wanted – in fact, he was the one who had convinced the other senior agents that they should take all the credit for beating the GESS three years prior, despite barely lifting a finger in that incident. Dib personally would have preferred any of the other senior agents to be in charge of the mission, but Tuna Ghost and Disembodied Head didn't have the negotiation skills Nessie had (he was the Network's liaison with the U.N.) and frankly, Darkbooty was too old for the excitement and stress.

Shaking his head, Dib turned back to the matter at hand. The flight crew was on the bridge deck, going through a final check of all the ship's systems before takeoff, which was scheduled to commence in fifteen minutes. All the nonessential personnel, including Dib, had been confined to their quarters until after takeoff had been completed.

Dib, because of his status, was the only one other than Captain Robertson and Agent Nessie to have a private room. Everyone else shared rooms, and to be honest, Dib didn't know _how_. He felt cramped just being the only occupant of his small room, though that may have been because the bed, cabinet, personal computer and the gravity chair – which he would have to strap himself into when takeoff occurred in order to keep from being smashed to jelly during the initial flight – took up most of the space.

And speaking of the chair, Dib decided now was probably the best time to strap himself in. Once again taking a deep breath, he made sure everything was safely stored away, and then walked over to the chair. Sitting down, he reached for the safety harnesses and strapped them together across his chest. And just in time too, as a few minutes later an announcement came over the intercom instructing the crew to prepare for takeoff. And a few minutes after that, the process of taking off began.

There was a sound like a giant clearing its throat as the ion engines flared to life, and the next thing Dib knew, he was being slammed back against the chair as the _Magellan_ shot into the sky at supersonic speeds, most likely deafening the crowd of spectators who had come to witness mankind's first true leap into space.

It felt to Dib like his bones were being shaken apart, and he firmly kept his mouth shut to keep from smashing his teeth to pieces against each other. This continued for several unbearable moments, until it suddenly stopped as the ship cleared the atmosphere. For a few seconds there was absolute silence, and then a humming sound filled the distilled air of the room as the _Magellan's_ artificial gravity generators activated. Releasing a breath he hadn't been aware he had been holding, Dib carefully unstrapped himself from the chair and walked over towards a panel in the wall. Pressing a button on the panel, he watched as a section of the wall lifted up into the ceiling, revealing the previously hidden viewport.

Dib watched as his homeworld slowly shrank from view; already they were coming up on the Moon, and shortly after they passed it, they'd activate the _Magellan's_ hyperspace engines… and hope they didn't explode. And assuming that they worked, then that would be it – there would be no turning back after that. Gaze hardening, Dib turned his attention away from the Earth and towards the stars.

"I'm coming for you Zim," he muttered, "And I don't care what it takes, but I'm not going home until this is finished once and for all. You can count on that."

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

**A/N: Yeah… this really wasn't worth the month it took to post, was it? I swear I'll try and fit a lot of action into the next chapter to make up for this one. But before we talk about that, I want to clarify something for future reference:**

**The GESS (Genetically Engineered Super Soldiers) were the mindless beasts made from a combination of several Earth animals that Zim created back in "Evolution". On the other hand, the GEST (Genetically Engineered Shock Troopers) are Kumozen and the rest of his kind; created from a combination of Earth and alien animals, they are smarter, stronger, and altogether deadlier creatures. Just something to bear in mind for later on in the story.**

**Anyway, like I was saying, I will try to make the next chapter more interesting, and once again try to get it up sooner.**

**Until then, read and review!**


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Okay, here's the next chapter – and look, it didn't take a month this time! Anyway, this is where we finally get to see the Irkens' POV on the events going on. I've been looking forward to this chapter, since it gives me a chance to write for some characters I haven't in the past. In addition, we also get back to the Resisty, who I'm still relatively new to writing about, so this chapter should be fun.**

**That said, read on!**

**Disclaimer: All the OCs belong to me. All other characters belong to Jhonen Vasquez.**

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

_Planet Screwheadia, 0450 Hours Galactic Standard Time_

Planet Screwheadia, otherwise known as the Conveyer Belt Planet, was a small rock of a planet, similar to Mercury in the Sol System, except it was actually inhabitable. True, most of the inhabitants now lived on the giant orbital conveyer belt stations that encircled the planet, but that was only because the Irkens had forced them to do so.

Just like any other day since Screwheadia had been invaded, the yellow-skinned "Screw Heads" who lived on the planet ran about doing their work under the supervision of the Irken guards, whose number had been increased ever since the mass breakout on Vort just two days previous. Though, the increase of guards had been minimal at best – the Tallest simply didn't consider the Resisty a threat, no matter how many people joined them. And in addition to that, the Tallest also didn't think that a shipping planet like Screwheadia was worth giving added protection, since they didn't think anyone on the planet would or even _could_ rebel.

This would prove to be a BIG mistake.

A streak of light shot out of the sky, passing through the atmospheric force fields that kept air in and slamming directly into one of the conveyer belt stations. A couple of Irkens in the section nearby looked casually over at the smoke rising from the impact zone.

"Huh, 'nother meteor," one grunted.

"What's that, like the third this week?" his friend asked.

"Sounds about right. They really should look into building stronger force fields for those things."

"Yeah, right. Like the Tallest are gonna waste money on stuff like that."

"Good point. Say, you catch Blood Sport last night?"

If the guards had bothered to investigate instead of trading notes on economics and entertainment, they would have found that the "meteor" was actually a basketball-sized metal sphere, which was now sitting in a crater it had formed in the floor of the station. For several seconds it simply sat there, and then suddenly a panel slid open in its side and several of Jana's spider drones climbed out. The little robots quickly took in their surroundings, and then most of them scampered off in the direction of a nearby control booth, while one broke off from the rest of the group in order to carry out its own mission.

Within the control booth, a single Irken guard reclined in his chair, paying more attention to the "PlayIrken" magazine in his hands than to the security monitors in front of him. Grunting in satisfaction at the contents of the magazine, he didn't notice the door creak open behind him, or the scuttling sound of small metallic limbs approaching him. What he did notice, however, was the sudden jolt of pain as one of the spider drones jumped onto his PAK and slammed an electrified appendage into it. The guard screeched in more surprise than pain, then collapsed to the floor in an unconscious heap. The spider drone and its companions climbed over his body and onto the control console; inserting their legs into the console, they quickly accessed the mainframe and uploaded the programming package they had been sent to deliver. Like the virus that had crippled the orbital fortresses at Vort, Voi had designed this package for one specific purpose – in this case, to shut down the security systems on all of Screwheadia's conveyer stations, as well as to deliver a message.

Moments after being uploaded, the programming went into effect. All over Screwheadia, automated and manned weapon turrets suddenly went dead, much to the confusion of the Irkens. And before they could even fully process that this had happened, the floating holo-screens that usually projected the Imperial Irken symbol or the Irken News Network (censored to keep the Screw Head slaves from getting any bright ideas) suddenly went to static. This caught the attention of the Screw Heads, who paused in their work to look up at the screens in confusion, as did the guards, who were too distracted to force the Screw Heads to go back to work.

For several seconds, the holo-screens merely showed static, before suddenly springing back to life, broadly declaring the message: **RISE UP! FIGHT THE IRKEN MACHINE! JOIN THE RESISTY!**

Everyone merely looked at each other for a few moments, and then the next thing anyone knew, the Screw Heads had thrown themselves at the Irkens, taking them by surprise and overpowering many of them. As riots quickly began blossoming across the conveyer stations, one Screw Head in particular was really getting into the spirit of things.

"Yes, my brothers and sisters!" Smikka Smikka Smoodoo shouted ecstatically, "Rise up! Take back what's rightfully ours from these tyrannical – ARRGGHH!"

As he fell twitching to the ground, the Irken who had just jabbed him with an electro-lance quickly ran off to continue trying to quell the rioting.

"Why me?" Smikka Smikka groaned.

Back in the control booth, the spider drones watched the unfolding rebellion, their simple A.I.s processing it as a fulfillment of their mission. That being said, there was only one thing left to do – remove all evidence of their involvement.

As the previously knocked-out guard regained consciousness and pulled himself to his feet, he blinked in confusion at the sight of several small robots sitting on top of the control console, their purple optics blinking rapidly.

"What the-?"

_BOOM!_

The unfortunate Irken never knew what hit him as the drones self-destructed, destroying the control booth in a rather impressive fireball. And the thing was, no one even really noticed the explosion, as plenty more were occurring due to the liberal use of the remaining operating weaponry by both the Irkens and the rebelling Screw Heads.

XXXXXXX

_The _Massive,_ In Re-Supply Orbit Around Irk, Same Time_

Several technicians and guards snapped to attention and saluted as former-Invader Tenn marched down the hallway towards the personal chambers of the Tallest, having been summoned for what was said to be "something VERY important". Now, one may ask why the Tallest would summon a _former_ Invader to their private chambers, but the only reason Tenn was a former Invader was because she had been promoted to Fleet Commander after her escape from Meekrob just a year earlier.

She had spent the better part of eight years struggling to survive on that planet, salvaging what she could from what had been left of her base after those insane SIR units had trashed it, and barely managing to scavenge from the barren wastelands, all while hiding from the Meekrob, who had most definitely _not_ been happy to discover there was an Irken Invader on their planet. She had finally managed to build a crude escape craft that barely managed to get off the planet, and had made her way back to Irk. The Control Brains had been so impressed by her survival and escape that, despite her failure to capture the planet, they promoted her to Fleet Commander and put her in charge of Third Fleet, which was a sizable portion of the Armada.

The job had several perks; for starters, she was granted control of the first of the new _Dreadnaught_-class battle cruisers, which was second only to the _Massive_ in terms of power. She also now technically outranked all of her fellow Invaders – being equivalent to a Captain in the Elite Guard – and in fact, she was even assigned one as her assistant. Speaking of which…

Tenn peered over her shoulder to look at Skoodge, who was panting for breath as he struggled to keep up with her slightly longer strides. The elevator had been broken, so they had had to use the stairs to get from the hanger bay to this level of the _Massive,_ and considering that Skoodge wasn't in the best physical shape, it really took its toll on him.

"You really should think about going on a diet," she commented, slowing down slightly so that he could catch up with her.

"Yeah… I know," Skoodge gasped, "I've tried… a couple… nothing seems… to work."

Tenn merely shook her head sympathetically as they came up to the grand doors leading to the Tallest's personal chambers. Turning her attention to the two Elite Guards flanking the doors, she straightened herself to her full four feet of height and spread out the command cape that came with her new uniform – personally, she found it to be pretty tacky, but it was still a sign of her authority.

"I've been summoned by the Almighty Tallest," she said, then jerked her head in Skoodge's direction, "He's with me."

The Guards saluted, then stood aside, one of them punching a code into a control panel off to the side. The doors slid open, and Tenn walked in, Skoodge following behind her as they entered the Tallest's inner sanctum, where they carried out all sorts of matters too important for the general public to know about.

"Quick! Do a barrel roll!"

"Don't tell me how to play!"

Tenn blinked at the sight of the Tallest sitting on rather comfortable-looking recliners and holding game controllers while staring up at a king-sized holo-screen currently displaying some video game she didn't recognize, but seemed extremely flashy and violent… just the type of game the two Tallest liked. They were so engrossed in it they didn't even seem to notice that Tenn and Skoodge had entered the room.

"Uh, my Tallest?" Tenn spoke up, trying to get their attention.

"Hang on a minute!" Red snapped, not taking his eyes off the screen. For a few more minutes the game continued, until one of the ships on the screen exploded. Red groaned while Purple whooped in excitement and the words "**GAME OVER!**" flashed across the screen.

"Yeah! In your face!" Purple cheered, and then yelped in pain as his scarlet-eyed counterpart threw his controller at his head.

"Sore loser," he muttered.

Red merely glared at him, then turned his attention to Tenn and Skoodge, who were staring at the spectacle.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"Um, you summoned me, my Tallest," Tenn said carefully, "You said it was something important?"

The Tallest stared at her for a moment, before suddenly seeming to remember what she was talking about. Red snapped his fingers and Table-Headed Service Drone Bob – who neither Tenn nor Skoodge had even noticed was in the room – stepped out from the corner of the room and walked over to the Tallest. In addition to the usual snacks and drinks, the table strapped to his head was also carrying a data-pad, which Red grabbed along with a soda, handing the former off to Tenn while bringing the latter up to his mouth. Tenn eagerly grabbed the pad and read it, but then blinked and looked up at the Tallest with a narrowed eye.

"You're… changing the name of my ship to… the _Doughnut_?" she asked.

"Yeah," Purple spoke up, "The _Dreadnaught's_ a stupid name."

"It doesn't sound _that_ bad," Bob spoke up meekly, causing both Tallest to glare at him.

"Who asked you?" Purple asked.

"When we want your opinion, Bob, we'll give it to you," Red said, tossing his empty soda can at the tiny Irken's head, making him flinch.

"My Tallest, I don't mean to sound disrespectful," Tenn said, "But I thought I'd been summoned here for something a little more… _important_."

"Like what?" Red asked.

Skoodge spoke up for the first time since entering the room, "Uh, I think she means maybe something about the Resisty and what happened at Vort the other day, sir."

The Tallest looked at each other, and then burst out laughing, much to the confusion of the shorter Irkens.

"Y-You're actually _worried_ about those idiots?" Red asked, clutching his sides as he continued to laugh.

"They're morons!" Purple giggled out, "You can tell that just by the name! They're not a threat."

"But they have a fleet now, my Tallest," Tenn replied, "And a large number of the escaped prisoners were Vortian scientists, which gives them quite a technological edge."

"_Nothing_ is a threat to this Armada," Red stated firmly, "And frankly, I find your lack of faith in it a little upsetting. Perhaps we should-"

Whatever Red was going to say next was interrupted when the doors slid open again, and Second Tallest Arnor entered the room. Tenn and Skoodge instantly snapped to attention and saluted, while Red and Purple merely stared in confusion.

"What are you doing here Arnor?" Purple asked.

"I tried calling, but the line was busy," Arnor replied, eyeing the holo-screen and discarded game controllers disdainfully before continuing, "We have a situation."

"Now what?" Red groaned.

In response, Arnor typed something into the holo-screen controls, making the screen go to static momentarily. When it came back up, everyone except for Arnor stared in shock, and the only reason he didn't was because he'd already seen it.

On the screen, a single Irken guard wearing cracked armor and bearing several cuts on his head stared anxiously at the screen, while the viewers could clearly see flames rising behind him.

"_We need immediate reinforcements!_" the guard was yelling, "_The Screw Heads are rebelling, and the weapon systems aren't working! We're being overrun – Ah! No! Stay away! AHHH!!!_"

The guard was cut off as a large group of Screw Heads swarmed him, taking him kicking and screaming to the ground, at which point the screen went back to static. The other Irkens continued to stare for several seconds, and then they simultaneously turned to look at Arnor.

"We just got that transmission from Screwheadia a few minutes ago," he explained, "I would advise that we mobilize troops immediately in order to put this rebellion down before it really gets off the ground."

The Tallest looked at each other, and then turned to Tenn.

"Well, you want something to do so badly?" Red asked, "Fine, take your fleet, go to Screwheadia, and remind the _skaatel_ of their place in the order of things."

"Yes, my Tallest," Tenn replied, bowing in respect before heading towards the door and motioning for Skoodge to follow her.

"Well, now that that's settled," Purple said, relaxing back into his recliner, "Hey Bob! Get us more snacks!"

Rolling his green eyes in annoyance, Arnor turned on his heel and left the room. Quickening his pace, he caught up with Tenn and Skoodge and cleared his throat in order to catch their attention. The two shorter Irkens jumped in surprise, then quickly saluted their superior.

"If I could have a few minutes of your time, Commander?" he asked.

"Of course, my Taller," Tenn responded, before quickly adding to Skoodge, "Go on ahead to the _Dread-_ ugh, I mean the _Doughnut_, and tell the fleet to get ready to move out to Screwheadia."

"Yes, ma'am," Skoodge saluted, and then took off down the hallway.

Arnor stared at Tenn with a narrowed eye. "They changed the _Dreadnaught's_ name to the _Doughnut_?"

"Yeah, they did," Tenn muttered.

Arnor gave a long-suffering sigh and rubbed the space between his eyes where his nose would have been if he had been born in another species.

"A few more inches," he muttered, "That's all it would take."

"Sir?"

"Nothing. Just wishing for a growth spurt to put me in charge instead of those two incompetent dolts."

Tenn didn't respond to that; considering that Arnor was next in line for the throne, he got certain special privileges, including being pretty much the only person who could bad-mouth the Tallest and live to tell about it. And frankly, Tenn couldn't blame him for being bitter, since he was the one who always had to make sure that Red and Purple's constant ineptitude didn't ruin the Empire – a task that had gotten even harder three years earlier, due to Third Tallest Gor's assassination at Zim's hands (which surprised Tenn greatly when she heard about it; she hadn't thought the little Defective had it in him) and the fact that no Irken had yet been found who was tall enough to take Gor's place, thus meaning that there was no one to take some of Arnor's workload.

"Anyway," Arnor said, pulling Tenn from her thoughts, "I want you to be on your toes during this mission Commander, and pay close attention to everything."

"I'm afraid I don't understand, sir."

Arnor crossed his arms in thought as he said, "Think about it. The Resisty have been a pain in the Empire's collective _c'horta_ for the better part of a decade, but they've never been a serious threat. Then, all of a sudden, they're capable of shutting down our defense systems and planning mass breakouts. And now, just two days later, there's an almost similar occurrence on another of our worlds. The Tallest might pass it off as a coincidence, but I don't buy that. There's something else going on here, and I don't like it. So, keep an eye on things out there for me, understood?"

"Yes, my Taller," Tenn replied with a salute, "But I don't think we have anything to worry about – whether or not the Resisty are working with someone else, they have no idea who they're dealing with."

Tenn would have kicked herself if she had only known how wrong that statement was; the people who they would soon be fighting knew _exactly_ who and what they were dealing with.

XXXXXXX

_The _Massive,_ Storage Closet, Two Levels Down, Same Time_

The short Irken quickly glanced around the hallway to make sure that no one was watching him, then ducked into the closet and shut the door. The closet was pitch black, but that was soon disrupted as the Irken activated a holographic communicator. The violet light of the projector shined off of the Irken's maroon eyes as it solidified into an image of Zim, who gave the Irken a stern look.

"Report," the renegade Invader ordered, not giving anything in the way of a greeting first.

The spy gave a quick salute before saying, "The Tallest are reacting as you anticipated, sir. They're dispatching Commander Tenn to Screwheadia to deal with the rebellion. Third Fleet will probably be there within a few hours."

"Excellent," Zim said with a chuckle, "I've already had Kumozen leak news about the rebellion to Nar – it's time to see what the Resisty can do in battle with a whole fleet at its disposal. Not to mention we get to see what this new _Dreadnaught_ ship is capable of."

"Err, actually, the Tallest changed the name of the ship to the _Doughnut._"

Zim blinked, then shook his head. "Oh, that's just _stupid._"

The spy couldn't agree more, but he knew he couldn't waste too much time in this conversation; it wouldn't be long before someone realized he wasn't where he was supposed to be.

"I should get going now, sir, before someone realizes I'm missing," he said, "But, uh, before I do… about my, uh, 'special' payment?"

Zim grinned sadistically.

"It'll arrive in the usual time and place. Don't worry, my friend, you'll continue to get what you want, just so long as you remember whom you really serve. And you do, don't you?"

"Of course, my lord," the spy said quickly, adding a salute just as fast, "All hail Zim!"

"Good," was all Zim said in response, the hologram going dead immediately afterwards as he cut the transmission from his end. The spy quickly pocketed the communicator and, after checking that the coast was clear, dashed out of the closet as fast as his little legs could take him.

He had work to do, after all.

XXXXXXX

_Bridge, Resisty Flagship _Liberty,_ In Orbit Around Screwheadia, 0615 Hours Galactic Standard Time_

Lard Nar's fingers tapped absentmindedly against the armrest of his chair as he watched events unfolding around his ship, which had finally been named the _Liberty_ in order to differentiate it from the rest of the ships in the new fleet – which had, incidentally, been quickly repainted the same colors as the _Liberty_ and had the Resisty's logo installed over the Imperial and Invader symbols the former Irken ships had sported, all so that they wouldn't accidentally shoot each other during the upcoming battles.

In addition to the name, there had been a couple of other changes to the ship. Mostly, the fact that Lard Nar had transferred most of his original crew over to the rest of the fleet, and replaced them with many of his new subordinates. This had been done for a number of reasons: firstly, because his crew had the most experience fighting the Irkens, and he needed that experience spread around the fleet, instead of concentrated in a single ship. Secondly, the trust he had formed with his crew had been based on working closely together in combat situations, and he needed to repeat that with the people who had now been suddenly thrust under his command.

Turning his attention away from the viewscreen, he looked at his new crew. Most were Vortian, obviously, but many others were from other species that had also been enslaved by the Irkens, and these individuals had been considered "priority subjects" and locked away on Vort, which was only until recently believed to be an impenetrable fortress of a planet. Lard Nar's lips pulled up in a smirk at the thought of how wrong they had proven that to been, thanks to General Kumozen's help.

With that thought in mind, Lard Nar returned his attention to the viewscreen, thinking about how, just a few hours earlier, they had received another message from the mysterious reptilian being they had allied with. It had been a simple text-only message, sent over the same frequency through which they had first communicated with each other, explaining that Kumozen's people had engineered the deactivation of Screwheadia's security systems in the same manner as what had happened at Vort, and that if the Resisty wanted to take advantage of the situation, they should do so before the Irkens showed up to put the rebellion down. So, they had rushed over to the planet as fast as they could, and were even now transporting as many of the Screw Heads as they could up to the fleet (though, some of the more vengeful new recruits were more preoccupied with hunting the Irkens still active on the planet).

"Status report," he said to Ixane, who was standing next to him. She, along with Spleenk and Shloonktapooxis, had been among the only original members Lard Nar had kept onboard the _Liberty_… although, admittedly, he had only kept the latter two around because that way he could at least keep an eye on their stupidity.

"We've managed to get about 3,000 Screw Heads onboard, and captured twenty-three more ships," she reported after looking at her console.

Lard Nar raised an eyebrow behind his goggles. "That's all?"

She shrugged in response. "The rest of the Screw Heads are agreeing to stay on the planet to act as guerrillas after we destroy the conveyor stations. As for the ships, the Irken contingent on Screwheadia wasn't that strong to begin with, and several ships were destroyed in the rioting or managed to flee to the edge of the system."

Glancing at the sensor screen, Lard Nar saw that there were indeed at least a dozen ships sitting at the edge of the system. They weren't attempting to attack the Resisty fleet… but they weren't trying to escape, either.

"We should blast them now, before they have a chance to do anything," one of the other Vortian ship commanders said over a communications screen floating near Lard Nar's head.

Lard Nar glanced at the other Vortian; his name was Glem Semnar, and prior to the invasion he had been an advisor to the Grand Chancellor of Vort's high council. While most of the council had been wiped out in the Organic Sweep, Semnar had survived and been subsequently imprisoned. And now that he had escaped, he had quickly appointed himself captain of a captured Ring Cutter, which he had almost immediately renamed the _Retribution._

"No," Lard Nar said after a moment's thought, "We're still not ready to fight the Irkens head on yet."

"We outnumber them ten-to-one!" Semnar snapped.

"At the moment," Ixane spoke up, "But I believe what the Captain is trying to say is, that those ships have had more than enough time to escape, yet they haven't. They're waiting for something."

"Most likely reinforcements," Lard Nar added, "At which point, _we_ will be the ones outnumbered. We need to settle for striking a blow against the Empire, then get out of here to plot our next move."

"So, the mighty Lard Nar's plan is to run away, huh?" Semnar sneered, "Why am I not surprised?"

Lard Nar's hands clenched on his armrests.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"That you are not even half the hero that most of this fleet thinks you are," Semnar replied with a glare, "You ran away when our homeworld was invaded; even if your presence wouldn't have made a difference, that doesn't change the fact that you only ensured your own safety while the rest of us lost everything."

"You have _no_ idea what I've lost, Semnar," Lard Nar hissed through clenched teeth.

But before the argument could continue, an alarm suddenly sounded. Both captains turned their attention to their viewscreens, watching as, in multiple great flashes of light, hundreds of Irken ships appeared at the edge of the system, being quickly joined by the ships that had escaped from Screwheadia. But it wasn't the fleet as a whole that caught anyone's attention, but the ship in the middle that the rest were gathered around.

The ship was roughly half the size of the _Massive,_ and most of its size was in the central oblong body. At the back of the central body, a tube extended out into the ion engines, and from the base of that tube extended three giant claw-like structures that framed the central body and extended just past it, pointed threateningly at the Resisty fleet. The Imperial Irken symbol was painted on the front (almost giving the impression that it was staring at them) while directly underneath it were hanger bay openings that were even now disgorging Spittle Runners and Shuvvers, which were quickly moving to join the larger ships in the fleet, which in turn was now approaching the Resisty ships at a rapid pace.

Turning back to Semnar, Lard Nar glared.

"Happy now?" he asked.

Before Semnar could answer, a screeching sound arose on the _Liberty's_ bridge. For a moment, Lard Nar thought it was an alarm, but then he realized it was only Shloonktapooxis screaming his non-existent head off.

"AAAAAHHHHH!!!!! We're all gonna die!" he cried, wailing as he slammed himself repeatedly against the wall. Lard Nar rolled his eyes, trying to bury his own fear under annoyance.

"Spleenk, calm him down," he ordered, "Ixane, tell the fleet to pull away from the planet and prepare to detonate the stations. And then tell them to prepare to retreat as soon as that is done."

"Coward," Semnar muttered.

"Maybe," Lard Nar returned, "But at least I'm not suicidal."

Semnar's face screwed up in anger, but he was once again interrupted before he could retort, this time by the Boodie-Nenian who had taken up the communications console.

"Sir, the big ship's hailing us," he announced, his big nostrils flaring as he spoke.

Taking advantage of the situation, Lard Nar quickly deactivated Semnar's communications screen and nodded at the comm. officer to open up a line with the Irken flagship. The viewscreen went to static for several seconds as the line was established, and then cleared to show a red-eyed Irken female in a Fleet Commander's uniform – Lard Nar recognized her from the Irken News Network as the Invader who had failed in capturing Meekrob, but had been promoted anyway for displaying what the Control Brains called "extemporary Invader skills" in managing to survive on her own on a hostile planet for so long.

"This is Fleet Commander Tenn," she announced in an accent Lard Nar couldn't quite place, "Commander of the Third Irken Fleet and captain of the – ugh, I can't believe I'm saying this – captain of the _Doughnut._ I am calling for your immediate-"

"Did you just say that your ship is called the _Doughnut_?" Ixane asked, her tone implying that she was raising an eyebrow behind her cloak.

"Yes," Tenn groaned, before sharply adding, "And before you start laughing, I would like to point out that your own name is 'the Resisty', so you're in no position to make fun of anyone else's ideas for naming things."

"Fair enough," Lard Nar said, "But I take it, Commander, that you didn't come here to discuss names."

"Hmm, the infamous Lard Nar… I thought you'd be taller," Tenn muttered, before shaking her head and saying, "Yes, as I was saying, I am calling for the immediate surrender of yourself and all forces under your command for crimes against the Irken Empire. If you do not do so, I will be forced to destroy you all… personally, I'm hoping for the latter, as I'd hate to have come all this way and not see something blow up."

Lard Nar grinned in a slightly sadistic manner as he discreetly tapped a sequence into a keypad at the end of his armrest.

"Well, Commander, I'd hate to disappoint a lady," he said sarcastically, "So I guess my answer's going to have to be…"

With a final push of a button, the code he had been entering was transmitted, triggering the large explosives that had been placed around the conveyor belt stations. In mighty bursts of flame, the central stations were blown apart, the atmospheric shields quickly flickering out of existence and the conveyor belts being ripped free and sent flying into space or towards Screwheadia's atmosphere. Judging by the astonished look on Tenn's face, it must have been quite the impressive sight (Lard Nar couldn't see it, due to the viewscreen being on communication mode).

"Down with the Irken Empire!" Lard Nar shouted, finishing his previous statement. Tenn stared at him in shock, before her face quickly morphed into a glare.

"You arrogant little _skaatel_," she hissed, "None of you will make it out of this system alive. I promise you that."

She nodded off screen, and the viewscreen changed back to normal view, showing an immense field of debris floating up from the still-burning conveyor stations, forming an impromptu screen between the Resisty fleet and the rapidly approaching Irken ships. Seeing the enemy coming at them so fast, Ixane turned to look at Lard Nar.

"Looks like you and Semnar both win your argument," she commented, "We're going to have to fight our way out of here."

"So be it," Lard Nar said, "Send word to the fleet – we fight our way out of the gravity field, and enter hyperspace as quick as possible. Tell everyone to _not_ allow themselves to get bogged down in fighting, because if they do, they're as good as dead."

"Yes sir," Ixane replied, quickly sending out the orders as Spleenk, Shloonktapooxis and anyone else not doing anything essential headed towards the weapon stations in order to be of some use.

It was time for the rebellion to _truly_ begin.

XXXXXXX

_The _Liberty,_ Storage Room, Same Time_

With a scuttle of mechanical appendages, the spider drone that had broken away from the rest of the group pulled itself out of the storage box it had used to stowaway on the _Liberty._ Its mission, unlike the others, had been to find its way onboard Lard Nar's ship in order to keep an eye on the Resisty leader; and when it had seen that the Screw Heads were transporting supplies up to the rebel fleet, it had placed itself within a rations container that had been tagged for the flagship.

Taking a look around, the drone quickly made its way over to the wall. Extending a laser cutter from one of its legs, it put a hole in the wall and squeezed through. Finding a length of cables, it used its forelegs pry open the plastic safety coverings on the cables, then extended a small fiber optic wire from the center of its body. The wire attached to the cables, allowing the drone to carry out the primary purpose of its mission – creating a link between the computers on the _Liberty_ with the one back on the _Leviathan_, thus giving Zim and Jana the access necessary to keep track of the Resisty's every move, thus keeping any surprises from popping up and upsetting their timetables. And from the look of things, the drone had picked a _very_ good time to create the link.

The Battle of Screwheadia was about to begin… and somewhere far away, Zim laughed as everything went exactly as he had planned.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

**A/N: First, I'd like to point out that this is, to date, the longest chapter I've ever written for anything. So, in addition to getting it posted so much sooner than the previous two, that is making me feel pretty good about myself.**

**Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed everything: the tension between the higher-ups in both the Irkens and the Resisty, the little clues I'm putting down as to the identity of Zim's spy, and of course, the set-up for the first major space battle of this story (and yes, I did say **_**first**_**).**

**Next chapter: The Battle of Screwheadia begins, while meanwhile, Dib and the others on the **_**Magellan**_** make headway on their mission.**

**Until then, read and review!**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: First of all, a quick announcement: As I'm sure you've noticed from the story summary, I've finally come up with an overall title for this whole trilogy. The "Destiny Trilogy" sounded like the best name to go with, considering all the talk of fate and destiny I've been throwing in ever since "Shadows". But, I would appreciate it if everyone could tell me what they think, and if any of you have a better name suggestion, I'd appreciate that as well.**

**Well, with that rambling out of the way, I welcome you all to the first major action chapter of GA, with the Battle of Screwheadia fought between Tenn's fleet and the Resisty. I am going to try very hard to make this battle exciting, because personally, I find that I tend to write face-to-face fights better than space fights, so I want to try and fix that.**

**Anyway, without further ado, read on!**

**Disclaimer: I own all the OCs that appear in this story. Everyone else belongs to Jhonen Vasquez.**

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Spittle Runners, Shuvvers, and Rippers commandeered by the Resisty weaved their way through the debris field, heading directly towards their counterparts still controlled by the Irkens, while the larger Ring Cutters and Viral Tanks on both sides worked their way around the field in order to avoid gaining any damage before they even started fighting. Meanwhile, the _Doughnut_ broke away from the rest of the fleet in order to place itself in the path that the _Liberty_ and several other ships were taking. Just as it positioned itself, the smaller ships reached each other and opened fire, beginning the battle.

Tenn watched from the bridge of the _Doughnut_ (gods, how she hated that name) as the fighter craft began swarming each other and the larger ships, laser blasts and explosions obscuring the view. Turning her attention away from the melee, she instead focused on the group of ships heading towards her own. Narrowing her eyes at the Vortian ship in the middle of the group, she clenched her fists and turned to the Irkens manning the weapon consoles.

"The Vortian ship is our primary target," she ordered, "Take Lard Nar out and the Resisty will be leaderless. Secondary weapons target the other vessels, but our main focus is that ship. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am!" the officers chorused, before turning to their consoles and powering up the weapons. Nodding in approval at this, Tenn turned on her heel and marched up the short ramp that led to the upper level of the bridge, which contained her command chair. Skoodge was standing next to the chair, nervously twitching as she lowered herself into it. She raised an antenna in confusion as she noticed this.

"Something wrong?" she asked, as she adjusted her cape to keep it from bunching up underneath her (yet another reason why she hated that part of her uniform).

"No," he managed to squeak out, "It's, uh… well, it's just that battle always kinda of makes me nervous."

Tenn stared at him blankly.

"…You're an _Invader,_ Skoodge," she pointed out.

"Yeah, I know," he admitted, "But that doesn't mean I have to _like_ fighting. You know how I took over Blorch? Not a single battle – all I had to do was introduce a specialized virus into the water supply and most of the population got wiped out without a fight. I just had to sit back and wait."

"How the heck did you ever pass basic training with that attitude?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong – when it comes down to it, I _can_ fight, I just don't like to. In fact, I got the best scores in my class for General Mayhem And Destruction… err, well, except for Zim. That was the only class he ever excelled in."

"Not surprising," Tenn muttered, before suddenly lashing out and hitting Skoodge in the back of the head.

"Ow!" he yelped, "What'd I do?"

"You said _his_ name," Tenn pointed out, "And you know the law: mentioning _him_ by name is forbidden. You're just lucky that you didn't do that in front of the Tallest. They'd probably get mad and shoot you out a cannon again… speaking of which, I've always wanted to ask, how'd you survive that?"

Skoodge chuckled slightly. "Well, that's a funny story. You see-"

"Commander, we're in range," one of the Irkens at the weapons console said, interrupting Skoodge before he could get into his explanation. This grabbed Tenn's attention; completely forgetting about her curiosity, she turned away from Skoodge and looked back out the viewport at the _Liberty._ While the other Resisty ships were breaking away to try and find another escape route, the Vortian vessel was continuing to head straight towards them. This brought a grim smile to Tenn's face.

"Fire at will," she ordered.

XXXXXXX

_The _Liberty,_ Bridge, Same Time_

Lard Nar stared in amazement as the tips of the _Doughnut's_ three "claws" began glowing, before beams of energy shot forth from them. Several dozen kilometers in front of the Irken ship, the three beams came together in a single point, temporarily forming a sphere of energy before it burst forward in a massive column of destructive power… that was headed right towards the _Liberty_. Lard Nar's amazement quickly turned to panic, and he snapped his head towards the pair of crystalline beings who were serving as pilots.

"Hard to starboard! Now!" he shouted.

The ship veered out of the way just in time, barely avoiding the attack. Unfortunately, the commandeered Ring Cutter behind them – which had been trying to turn around and retreat in another direction – was struck head on. Multitudes of internal explosions ripped through the ship, blowing it apart and killing the crew in mere moments. Immediately afterwards, the _Doughnut_ also began launching plasma missiles and firing from smaller ion cannons lining its hull, targeting the other ships that were attempting to get past it.

"What the _forshke _was that?!" Ixane shouted.

"A Death Cannon," Lard Nar muttered, "Multiple conductors focusing and magnifying the attack… _sheb,_ I thought those were still theoretical."

"Obviously not," Ixane began to say, only to be interrupted by Shloonktapooxis.

"Woo! Man that was so cool!" he shouted, "Hey boss, can we get one of those things?"

Lard Nar glared at the floating cone, before quickly turning back to the battle.

"Target the cannon emplacements," he ordered, "We take out just one of those, and we disable their main weapon."

In response to his orders, the _Liberty's_ weapons opened fire; ion cannons built into the front of the twin pylons that gave the ship its tuning fork-like appearance began spewing out bolts of energy, while plasma missiles were launched from the space between the pylons and redirected themselves towards the _Doughnut_. The space between the two ships was soon filled with innumerable flashes of light as missiles and energy blasts from the Resisty flagship collided with those from the new pride of the Irken Armada, which was redirecting its secondary weapons to block those being fired at it. While most of the blasts and missiles neutralized each other, a good majority still slipped through on both sides – which was especially bad news for the _Liberty_, since it was smaller than its rival, and therefore had weaker shields.

"Shields at 78 percent and dropping," Spleenk yelled, panic causing his voice to crack

"Reposition us," Lard Nar ordered, gripping the primary weapon joystick on his armrest, "If we can get a clear shot at the bridge, even if we can't fully breach their shields, we might be able to fry their systems and disorient them long enough for us to get out of here."

As the crew hurried to try and move the _Liberty_ into a better fighting position, Lard Nar risked a glance at the rest of the battle. Even as he watched, a group of Shuvvers belonging to the Irkens ganged up on a Resisty Viral Tank that was almost out of the range of the battle; within minutes, the combined and concentrated attacks of the fighter craft ripped the larger ship's hull open, sending the contents (and crew) spilling out in a rush of atmosphere and flame – although, the Tank at least managed to take two of the Shuvvers with it, its ion cannons blowing them out of space. And before the remaining three could even move, a Ring Cutter came flying through the debris field caused by the Tank's explosion, its shields flickering even as it opened fire on the Shuvvers, which were too surprised to react. The Irken ships were destroyed before they even had a chance to fight back, and then, instead of trying to flee, the Ring Cutter instead headed back into the fray, targeting the nearest enemy vessels.

Lard Nar narrowed his eyes; he couldn't tell from where he was, but he had a pretty good idea of whose ship that was.

'Semnar you reckless idiot,' he thought, 'If we both make it out of here, we're going to need to have a _very _long talk.'

XXXXXXX

_The _Retribution,_ Bridge, Same Time_

Ring Cutters were medium-sized combat vessels; larger than the one-pilot fighter craft, like the Rippers or Shuvvers, yet smaller than the behemoths that were the Viral Tanks (and especially the ridiculously-sized _Doughnut_ and _Massive_). Because of this, they were, in theory at least, the ideal battleships, containing a perfect balance of agility and firepower. However, at the moment, Glem Semnar was disagreeing with that belief.

The black-skinned, green-eyed Vortian growled as a pair of Rippers flew circles around his larger ship, smoothly avoiding his attacks while beating down his shields. Technically, he probably could have fled from the battle by now, but unlike Lard Nar he refused to run away from a fight until the last possible moment. Until then, he was going to extract his pound of flesh from the monsters that had so wronged his people. And right now, these two Rippers were on the top of his list.

Spinning his chair away from the viewscreen, Semnar turned to his small crew – another detail of the _Retribution's _size being that in addition to its captain, it only needed a half-dozen people to run it. And Semnar, being the patriot that he was, had picked only Vortians for his crew.

"Sir, our shields are at 65 percent," the crewmember at the shield station started to say, only to be interrupted when the Rippers made another pass on the _Retribution_, narrowly avoiding a counterattack and flying out of range after grazing the Ring Cutter's side with their weapons.

"Err, make that 53 percent, sir," the crewmember added, wincing slightly as Semnar glared at her.

"Prepare a full-spread burst from the plasma cannons," Semnar ordered after a few moments of thought, "Fire on my mark."

The weapons officers quickly powered up the _Retribution's_ primary weapons, but kept their hands off the firing triggers while they waited for Semnar's orders. The Rippers came around for another pass, but Semnar stayed silent. Even as the two ships once again opened fire and the _Retribution_ shook from impact, he didn't say a word. The crew nervously glanced back at Semnar as the Rippers came even closer; it wasn't until they could practically see the Irkens sitting in their cockpits that Semnar slammed his fist into his armrest.

"Fire!" he shouted.

The plasma cannons activated, releasing energy at every possible angle; the Rippers were too close to avoid being hit, especially with the amount of plasma being flung at them. They tried to veer away, but the lead Ripper was completely broadsided, blowing it apart. The other Ripper was hit head on by the exploding debris, sending it spinning away for several seconds until it also exploded. Semnar grinned sadistically at the sight of this, and was about to order an attack on the next nearest Irken ship when the shield officer spoke up again.

"Sir, shields are at holding at 30 percent," she said, "If we keep this up much longer, they'll collapse altogether and then we'll be sitting ducks."

Semnar glared at her for ruining his good mood, but instead of saying anything he merely turned his attention back to the battle. A large number of the Resisty fleet had either escaped already or been destroyed, while the ones still there were struggling to escape as well. But the thing that really drew Semnar's attention was the _Liberty_ trading blows with the _Doughnut_… and not doing much in the way of being effective. The Vortian snorted at the sight.

'Hypocrite,' he thought, 'Tells us not to get dragged down in fighting and then what does he do? He gets caught up fighting the most powerful ship the Irkens have next to the _Massive_. What a fool. Heh, maybe I'll get lucky and he'll get killed and out of my way…'

While the thought was conceived in sarcasm, it suddenly clicked with something in Semnar's mind, triggering the thought processes that had served him so well in his decades as a politician. As the wheels of his conniving mind turned, a small smirk formed on his face at the possibilities that presented themselves to him.

If Lard Nar were to die, someone else would need to take over the Resisty. Someone with the charisma and cunning necessary to run a galaxy-wide rebellion against the most powerful empire in recorded history, someone who would then be in prime position to lead whatever post-war galactic government would be set up after the Irkens were defeated… someone like Glem Semnar.

'He wants to take on that killing machine? Fine, let him,' Semnar thought, 'I'll be sure to give him a nice eulogy.'

He turned his attention back to his crew, who were all respectively (if not a little cowardly) waiting for him to speak. After letting them sweat for a few more minutes, he finally spoke.

"Fine, get us out of here," he ordered briskly, "Head back to the rendezvous point. I think we've done enough damage for now."

The obviously relieved pilots quickly began moving the ship away from Screwheadia's gravity well and powered up the ship's hyperspace drive so they could use it as soon as possible. Meanwhile, Semnar spared one last glance out the viewscreen at the _Liberty_ as it continued to try and get past the _Doughnut_.

"Good bye, Lard Nar," he muttered with a slight chuckle, "It most certainly _hasn't _been a pleasure."

XXXXXXX

_The _Liberty,_ Bridge, Same Time_

"Shields at 48 percent!" Spleenk shouted, "We're all gonna die!"

"Shut up Spleenk!" Lard Nar and Ixane shouted simultaneously, not taking their eyes off of the battle. Every time they almost managed to get around the _Doughnut_, the larger ship moved itself to block them again. Every other ship in the area was giving the two capital ships a wide berth – the Irken ships due to knowing that the _Doughnut_ could handle itself, and the Resisty ships due to fear – so it was just the two of them going against each other. And unfortunately, since the _Liberty_ couldn't get a clean shot at the _Doughnut's _bridge, the _Doughnut_ was winning.

As if to prove the point, the _Doughnut_ powered up its Death Cannon again, firing another beam of massive destructive energy at the _Liberty_, which once again just barely managed to avoid being hit. Unfortunately, the shot still grazed the _Liberty's_ side, causing its shields to flicker into visibility momentarily, before they managed to stabilize. On the bridge, several consoles overloaded and exploded, sending their operators flying. Spleenk shrieked in more surprise than pain as his console sparked, sending him stumbling back into Shloonktaplooxis, which resulted in both of them collapsing into a heap on the ground. Ixane quickly stepped over them and took control of the shield console, cursing when she saw what it displayed.

"23 percent," she said, quickly typing away at the console, "I can reroute some of the remaining emergency power, but so much is already being used to keep life support running that I can only get us up to maybe 40 percent – and I stress the _maybe_."

"Do it," Lard Nar ordered, squeezing the firing trigger for the main weapon. A burst of plasma headed straight towards the _Doughnut's_ bridge, only to be neutralized by a flurry of ion cannon blasts. Lard Nar cursed, though he decided that he should at least be grateful that the _Doughnut_ didn't bother also using its secondary weapons when it fired the Death Cannon…

His eyes widened as he realized that. The _Doughnut_ had – between the Death Cannon and its secondary weaponry – more than enough firepower to wipe out the _Liberty_ in one huge burst attack. And yet, they alternated between the Death Cannon, which could at least be avoided, and the other weapons, which didn't do as much damage even when they couldn't be avoided. And Tenn seemed pretty smart; Lard Nar thought she would have realized this… unless, she had, and something was keeping her from utilizing it.

"Sir, shields are holding at 39 percent," Ixane said, breaking Lard Nar's train of thought, "But we can't hold out for much longer. We need a way out _now_."

For several seconds there was silence on the bridge, then a smirk formed on Lard Nar's face.

"I think I just figured one out," he stated, "Their secondary weapons can't fire when the Death Cannons are in use; which means that when they _do_ fire the Death Cannons, they'll have a massive blind spot."

"So how do we take advantage of that?" one of the communications officers asked – one of the advantages of his position was that in a situation like this, he really wasn't needed for anything and could afford to focus on something other than the fight.

Eyeing the relatively small indention in the front of the _Doughnut_, just above the Imperial Irken symbol, that held the bridge's viewport, Lard Nar gripped his armrests in anticipation.

"Everyone listen to me _carefully_…"

XXXXXXX

_The _Doughnut,_ Bridge, Several Minutes Later_

Tenn narrowed an eye in confusion as the _Liberty_ lined itself up with her ship, directly in front of the Death Cannon array… she could almost visualize Lard Nar standing opposite of her, staring her down like in some old B-grade holo-movie.

"Does he _want_ us to blow him up or something?" she mused. Skoodge, still standing next to her and now helping himself to a soda, shrugged.

"Beats me," he said, "Hey, maybe they just want to surrender; we could just capture them and…"

Skoodge trailed off as he realized that Tenn was giving him a deadpan look.

"The Tallest wouldn't like that, would they?" he asked.

"No, they wouldn't – when they said to 'put the _skaatel_ in their place', they meant to eliminate them," Tenn said, before pausing in thought for a moment, "Then again, Second Tallest Arnor _did_ order me to try and figure out how the Resisty suddenly got so good. Capturing Lard Nar would probably be the best way to do that."

Skoodge suddenly looked nervous for some reason.

"Err, actually, maybe we should just blow them up," he said.

"You just said we should capture them!" Tenn snapped, obviously confused by the sudden change of mind.

"Well, yeah," he admitted, "But like you said, the Tallests' orders said to eliminate the Resisty, which would override the Second Tallest's orders to get information. So, if we don't try and blow up that ship right now, we'd pretty much be violating the Tallests' orders, and that wouldn't be too… pleasant for us if they found out about it."

Tenn continued to stare at Skoodge with a narrowed eye for several moments, but before she could say anything, one of the bridge technicians suddenly shouted, grabbing their attention.

"Commander, the enemy is heading right towards us!"

Both Tenn and Skoodge snapped their heads towards the viewport, to see the rather shocking sight of the _Liberty_ flying right towards them, at a very fast pace. Tenn's blinked in surprise as she took what she was seeing, and then she began chuckling humorlessly.

"Well, that settles that argument," she muttered, before shouting to the technicians, "Fire the Death Cannon! Now!"

The technicians didn't acknowledge the order, but simply began carrying it out. Within moments, the three Death Cannon claws began glowing, and then seconds later it fired. The beam of pure destructive energy rushed through space towards the _Liberty_; however, just before it hit the rebel ship and treated Tenn and the others to the sight of a magnificent explosion, the _Liberty's_ ventral thrusters suddenly fired, sending the ship flying upwards at an angle, causing the Death Cannon shot to just barely pass under it, missing it completely.

The jaws of every Irken on the _Doughnut's_ bridge dropped simultaneously as they realized that they had just been tricked – the Death Cannon was still discharging its attack, and while it was doing that, there wasn't enough power for the secondary weaponry. Which meant that, at the moment, there was nothing they could do to stop the ship that was now hurtling over and past theirs, and which was… flipping over?

"What the hell?" Tenn muttered, watching as the _Liberty_ spun over on its axis, eventually positioning itself so that its top was facing the _Doughnut_ – as was its primary plasma cannon. And just as Tenn figured this out, eyes widening in shock, the cannon fired, sending a burst of plasma hurtling straight towards the massive dreadnaught's bridge, along with a stream of missiles launched from between the _Liberty's_ fore pylons.

"_Frag_ it! Brace for impact!" Tenn shouted, seconds before the missiles impacted the area around the bridge, and the plasma stream scorched itself across the front of the _Doughnut_, just barely missing the bridge's viewport. The shields blocked the attacks from causing any direct damage, but the force from the energy released reverberated through the shields and into the ship. The bridge shook from impact, the overhead lights flickering and several consoles overloading, sending their technicians flying backwards. Tenn herself was knocked out of her command chair and sent flying into Skoodge, knocking him over as well and sending them both tumbling off of the upper level of the bridge to land in a heap on the lower level.

The _Liberty_ shot past the _Doughnut_ completely, not even bothering to right itself back out as it sped away from the Irken capital ship as fast as it could. Just as the Irkens on the _Doughnut's_ bridge managed to regain their senses, the _Liberty_ reached minimum safe distance to enter hyperspace, and did so immediately, disappearing in a flash of light.

Tenn growled, humiliated at the fact that a mere Vortian scientist had just outsmarted her, an Irken Fleet Commander, in battle. That was beyond humiliating; her reputation would be ruined after this! She'd be lucky if the Tallest didn't have her stripped of her rank and demoted to Service Drone for this embarrassment.

"Status report!" she snarled.

The technicians, clearly afraid of their currently enraged commander, quickly brought the consoles back online and assessed the situation.

"Shields are holding at 79 percent," one reported.

"Weapon systems have been knocked offline, but are rebooting," another technician added.

"And the battle?" Tenn asked.

"Most of the Resisty fleet has either been destroyed or has fled the system," a third technician said, "The remaining ships have been forced back towards the planet and trapped in the gravity well; they're not going anywhere."

"Good," Tenn said with a predatory grin, "As soon as the weapon systems are completely back online, target them and wipe out every last filthy one of them. Oh, and Skoodge?"

"Yeah?" Skoodge asked groggily, rubbing the back of his sore head.

"Get your fat _c'horta_ off of me!"

Skoodge blinked in surprise, then looked down and realized that he was still sprawled out on his back… which placed him firmly on top of Tenn, whom his large girth was currently pinning to the floor. Face flushing in embarrassment, he quickly jumped to his feet, sputtering out apologies.

Tenn merely rolled her eyes and waved him off.

"Just… go and try to do something useful," she said dismissively, turning on her heel and heading back up to her command chair. Skoodge opened his mouth to say something, then apparently thought better of it and simply settled for walking over to one of the damaged consoles and offered his help in fixing it.

Tenn, meanwhile, sulked in her chair as she tried to imagine what she was going to tell the Tallest. She had failed to crush the Resisty; she had destroyed a portion of their fleet, yet at the same time had lost a number of her own ships, and on top of that she had allowed the vessel that was supposed to be the new pride of the Armada get outmatched by an outdated Vortian ship. Not to mention the extra mission assigned her by Arnor; she was no closer to figuring out how the Resisty suddenly got so good than she had been back on the _Massive_ when Arnror had spoken with her. And it was all Lard Nar's fault.

'Little _kisgaree_,' she thought disdainfully, 'How dare he make me look like a fool. I will make him pay for this.'

At that thought, Tenn gripped at her armrests so hard that she began clawing grooves into it. Assuming that the Tallest didn't make an example of her for failure, she was most definitely going to dedicate every waking moment to hunting the Resisty down and destroying them. And she was going to take great satisfaction out of personally taking Lard Nar apart piece-by-piece.

"I'm ready for round two, _skaatel_," she muttered with a sneer, "Are you?"

XXXXXXX

_The _Magellan,_ Somewhere In Deep Space, 5:30 PM Earth Time_

As the _Magellan_ reentered normal space, Dib braced himself against the wall and willed himself not to vomit. After two days of jumping across the galaxy using the ship's crude hyperspace engines, one would think he'd be use to the sudden jarring movements in-and-out of reality, but it was still a shock to his system every time it happened.

And as much as it pained him to admit it, that was probably the most exciting thing that had happened since the expedition had started. This was the fifth stop they had made in the past two days; moving in a relatively straight line deeper into the galaxy, they would stop after a large enough distance had past and reenter normal space. Once that was done, they would then activate the _Magellan's_ long-range communications systems (another little bit of reverse-engineered Irken tech) and transmit on every possible frequency that they were enemies of the Irken Empire seeking aid. If no one responded after several hours, they would then move on in their journey.

Dib had pointed out that this was a rather stupid strategy; they had no idea of the extent of the Empire's territory, and could already very well be smack dab in the middle of it. So, announcing outright that they were enemies of the Irkens seemed rather suicidal in Dib's opinion… naturally, he was overruled and ignored.

'Some things never change,' he thought, a little bitterly, as he pulled open the hatch that led to the bridge. Said bridge was a cramped little space, like most of the chambers on the _Magellan_, made more so by the holographic projector table in the middle of the room that was connected, by large bundles of cables that stretched over the floor, to the sensor equipment. Dib walked around the table, carefully avoiding the cables on the floor, and made his way over to semi-enclosed cockpit, where Captain Robertson and Agent Nessie were debating something. Agent Yeti stood off to the side, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. Noticing Dib walking up, he gave a nod of acknowledgement.

"What's up?" Dib asked.

"Agent Nessie and the Captain are debating a change in strategy," Yeti answered, "Agent Nessie wants to stop randomly jumping and simply wait for someone to show up. The Captain, on the other hand, is determined to keep following orders."

Nessie finally seemed to notice that Dib had entered the room and gave him a cold glare – it was no secret that he hated the idea of having Dib as part of this expedition and having been overruled on the subject, and he took every opportunity to remind Dib of it.

"Ah, Mothman, so nice of you to join us," he greeted with a sneer, "Since you're the one who's been so _cleverly_ nagging us for the past two days to change our course of action, perhaps you would be kind enough to inform the good Captain here why it's pointless to leave before we've given enough time for a response to our transmissions."

Dib opened his mouth to retort to that, but before he could say anything, Captain Robertson spoke up. The fifty-something, grizzled African-American veteran had an aura of no-nonsense around him, and Dib had deliberately avoided talking to him when he could; the growl that accompanied the man's voice scared the hell out of him sometimes.

"The only change the kid's been talking about is our message, Einstein," Robertson snapped, "Considering he knows these aliens better than anyone, if he had any other problems with our strategy for finding their enemies, he probably would have said something about it by now."

Dib's eye twitched at the "kid" comment – he was going to be twenty in a couple of months for God's sake! However, before he could protest that, or offer his opinion on the matter at hand, he was once again interrupted.

"You barely know anything about him, and you just _assume_ he's such an expert because everyone says so?" Nessie asked bitterly, "What makes you so sure he knows so much, hmm?"

"Well, he wouldn't be here if he wasn't, now would he?" Robertson replied heatedly.

"Neither of them really cares about my opinion, do they?" Dib whispered out of the corner of his mouth to Yeti, who smirked in response.

"Nope," was the older man's simple reply.

The two joint leaders of the expedition looked like they were ready to continue arguing all day, but they were interrupted by a shout from the other side of the small bridge. Turning their heads, the small group found that the sound came from Ensign Nina Delgado, the officer in charge of the long-range sensors.

"Something wrong, Ensign?" Robertson asked.

"N-no, sir," she stuttered out quickly, "I mean, well, maybe, that is – we have a contact!"

"What?!?!" everyone shouted simultaneously, quickly dashing over to the projector table as it hummed to life. The tabletop glowed, shining a column of light upwards that flickered for several moments before Yeti kicked the side of it, and the light stabilized into a purple-shaded 3-D image of the system; a miniature image of the _Magellan_ hovered in the middle of the table, while near the edge of the table a small round object – too perfectly round to be artificial – drifted in and out of vision.

"It's just at the edge of sensor range," Delgado said, "If we were even a few klicks away from this spot, we wouldn't have even noticed it."

"Captain," Nessie began to say, only to be interrupted by a quick affirmative nod from Robertson. The Captain quickly hopped back into the cockpit, joined instantly by his co-pilot, Lieutenant Sam Weston, and fired up the ship's engines. Within minutes, the _Magellan_ was within visual range of the object.

"Our first contact with signs of alien life," Nessie muttered almost ecstatically to himself. He then turned to Dib and, with a tone that indicated he hated every syllable coming out of his mouth, asked, "Well, is it Irken?"

Dib didn't answer at first; he merely stared out the cockpit viewport at the object. It was composed of a dark purple/grayish-black metal, with a viewport in front and several tentacle-like structures sticking out of it.

"Possibly," he finally said, "It looks similar to the escape pods from Zim's space station, but without the weapons; this was probably designed purely for emergency escapes, not for the possibility of combat. I'll be more certain once I've had a chance to actually examine it."

"I want it brought onboard," Nessie said, turning to Robertson. The Captain glared at the other man for a moment before grunting his approval.

"But," he added with a growl, "I want a security detail on it – if it _is_ an escape pod, odds are there's someone in there. And I am _not_ going to put my ship and this crew in danger. Got it?"

"Yes, yes," Nessie said dismissively, gesturing over to Yeti, "Agent Yeti, would you please handle that?"

"Yes sir," Yeti replied. With a quick salute, he turned on his heel and marched out the door, already relaying orders into his radio for his security team to join him in the hanger bay. Dib took off after him, ready and eager to once again get his hands on Irken technology.

What no one realized, however, was that Robertson was right; there _was_ someone in the pod. Even as the _Magellan_ repositioned itself to pull the pod into its hanger bay, a pair of wide purple eyes studied the foreign ship. The being those eyes belonged to had been awakened from a state of hibernation by the pod's mostly dormant systems when they had detected the presence of a nearby vessel; this being now watched as the ship, which seemed oddly familiar and yet totally alien at the same time, approached it.

"Well now," the being spoke in a feminine and slightly British sounding accent, "Isn't this interesting?"

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

**A/N: Gee, I wonder who **_**that**_** could be?**

**For those of you who couldn't tell, yes I am being sarcastic, and yes that is indeed Tak I'm bringing into this story. I figured I've worked with her A.I. double enough, I should start writing for her, and this seemed like the best story to bring her into.**

**Anyway, I'm sorry if the battle wasn't worth the wait, but like I said, I write face-to-face battles better than space battles (and don't worry, there'll be plenty of both later on). In any case, I hope you all enjoyed it anyway, as well as the tension I'm trying to set up within the Resisty ranks (that'll be important later on).**

**Next chapter: Dib and Tak have an… interesting reunion. Meanwhile, Zim prepares for the next stage of his plan.**


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry for the delay again. I had finals, and on a less personal note I once more trouble with Dib's scene, and Tak was a little difficult as well, since I rarely use her. But all in all, I think it turned out alright, and I hope you all think so too.**

**Read on!**

**Disclaimer: The OCs are mine; the canon characters belong to Jhonen Vasquez.**

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

_The _Magellan,_ Hanger Bay, Several Minutes Later_

A dozen armed SEN agents and military personnel led by Agent Yeti marched into the relatively large hanger bay as it finished repressurizing and headed straight towards the alien pod now nestled snuggly near the _Magellan's_ own boxy escape pods. The darkly colored craft seemed oddly menacing set against the gray metal of the surrounding human constructs, but the security men were too well trained to be intimidated by a mere machine. Dib, on the other hand, couldn't help but feel a shiver run down his spine as he walked into the bay. There was something about this pod that seemed familiar, but he just couldn't put his finger on it…

Agent Nessie, by contrast, was practically glowing with excitement as he strode into the room. He was even rubbing his hands together in glee, like a Saturday morning cartoon villain, as he approached the pod that Yeti and the others now had surrounded.

"Oh, this is beautiful," he muttered to himself, "An absolutely beautiful piece of technology. Oh, I cannot wait to take this apart and study it."

Dib raised an eyebrow at Nessie, who finally seemed to notice that he was there as well and instantly composed himself. Clearing his throat, he turned to the younger SEN agent and scowled.

"Well, 'Mr. Expert', is it Irken or not?"

Dib returned his attention to the pod, walking past the soldiers in order to get as close as possible. Pacing around the pod, he began a mental analysis, thinking about every Irken machine he'd ever seen and comparing it to the one before him… which became a moot point as soon as he came upon a familiar symbol that stopped him dead in his tracks.

"What is it?" Yeti asked from his spot a few feet away.

"It's definitely Irken," Dib replied, "I recognize this symbol."

In truth, the symbol looked slightly different from what he remembered – to be specific, the "antennae" of the symbol were more curved than usual – but it was definitely the military/Invader symbol. Still, even the difference from the normal appearance seemed familiar, and he didn't understand why; frankly, it was starting to annoy him.

"Open it," Nessie ordered, his voice firm as steel, "Now."

Dib glared at the older man in annoyance for a moment, before he began searching for an activation switch on the exterior of the pod near the viewport. If it was anything like the pod from Zim's space station, then it should have an emergency panel built on the outside in case the occupants couldn't get out and required outside help.

'Ah, there it is,' he thought, a small triumphant smirk making its way onto his face as he spotted the panel, sticking slightly out from the rest of the metal ringing the viewport. Flipping the panel open, he pressed the large (surprisingly purple instead of red) button inside, and then stepped back as a sudden rush of air accompanied the viewport separating itself from the pod. The viewport slowly lowered itself to the floor – and seconds later, something shot out in a blur, knocking Dib over as it barely missed him and slamming into one of the soldiers.

As the sounds of panicked shouts and a few gunshots filled the air, Dib quickly pulled himself to his feet and spun around, only to freeze at the sight that greeted him. The object that was blurring around the guards, avoiding their shots and knocking them aside, came to a stop for a moment in the middle of the room… revealing itself to be a SIR unit.

It was slightly larger than GIR, was a darker colored metal than he had been, was marked with an Irken symbol on its forehead, and its right arm was significantly larger than its left. It also had metal plates crudely placed at several spots on its body, signs of a hasty and poor repair job. As its red eyes slowly scanned the remaining soldiers, who were staring at it in shock – due no doubt to the revelation that they were getting their asses kicked by a robot the size of a housecat – Dib stiffened as he realized that he recognized this particular SIR. But before he could even fully process this, something hit the floor behind him, and he suddenly found the sharp end of a PAK spider leg pressed up against his neck.

"Don't move," a familiar voice hissed into his ear.

Keeping his body perfectly still, Dib slowly turned his head around until he was looking into a pair of purple eyes belonging to a female Irken who was using her other three spider legs to bring herself up to eye level with him. And it was an Irken he knew all too well.

"Tak," the name came out as a whisper, the shock keeping him from giving a proper greeting.

Tak's eyes narrowed as one antenna rose in evident confusion, before a look of realization overcame her and her eyes widened in surprise.

"Oh, you have got to be bloody kidding me," she muttered, before pressing the leg closer to Dib's neck as her confused expression gave way to cold fury.

"I don't know how or why you're here, Dib," she hissed, "But considering that you're one of the beings responsible for me ending up here in the _c'horta_-end of the universe and are now at my mercy, I can't say that I'm complaining."

"Uh, Tak, can we maybe be reasonable about this?" Dib asked, then gave an undignified squeak as the leg pressed a little further, nicking his neck and causing a slight trickle of blood to seep out.

"No," she replied, pulling the leg back slightly as she prepared to strike…

_Click_

Both human and Irken turned to see Yeti and several other agents pointing their guns in their direction. They were sporting minor scratches and cuts, but for the most part just seemed more annoyed than anything.

"Lower your weapons and back away slowly," Yeti said coldly.

"How did you get past MIMI?" Tak hissed, quickly shifting on her feet so that Dib was between her and the weapons pointed at her.

"Who?" Yeti asked, blinking a little but not altering his stance any.

"Her robot," Dib replied, not budging an inch in order to keep the leg from pressing any further into his neck.

"Oh, yeah, that thing," Yeti said, his lips quivering against a repressed laugh, "We didn't have to do anything, really."

He gestured with his head over his shoulder, and the other agents moved slightly to give Dib and Tak an unobstructed view. This revealed that MIMI was surrounded by the other agents and soldiers, who were pointing their weapons at her, but mostly just looked bewildered. Which may or may not have had something to do with the fact that MIMI's eyes had changed from red to cyan, and she was now bouncing up and down on her head.

Dib raised an eyebrow at that, while behind him Tak muttered a few Irken words he'd come to realize over the years were swears.

"I won't ask again," Yeti said, "Let him go and lower your weapons."

"You think I'm intimidated by a bunch of _skaatel_ armed with toys?" Tak asked with a bitter laugh, "You're pathetic, Earth-Monkey. It'll take more than that to – GAH!"

Tak was cut off as Dib suddenly threw himself back into the distracted Irken, knocking both of them to the ground. Dib quickly spun himself around, pressing his knees into her chest to keep her pinned to the floor. However, that was as far as he got, as before he could grab her hands too, Tak brought them both up in a scissor strike at his throat. Dib choked and fell back, and just as he began breathing regularly again one of Tak's spider legs struck him in the side and sent him flying.

Yeti and the others opened fire; unfortunately, Tak's front spider legs came up and projected a force field just in time, blocking the bullets before they could hit her.

"Is that the best you can do, fools?" Tak sneered, before firing a blast from two of the spider legs while the other two kept up the shield. The agents jumped out of the way of the blast, though one was grazed and landed on the ground hard, cursing in pain as he clutched the burned patch of flesh on his thigh. Tak smirked at the sight, before turning her attention to Yeti, who had recovered first and was already slipping a fresh clip into his gun. However, he froze as he and Tak locked eyes.

"I'm impressed," she admitted with a slight cock of her head, "You seem more… adept than these other humans. Perhaps I should have you dealing with them for me?"

Before Yeti could come up with a proper retort, a light suddenly flashed across Tak's eyes – and was accompanied by sparks flying from the device implanted in the side of her head. Screaming in pain, the female Irken fell to her knees and clutched the side of her head as her spider legs automatically moved to spread their shield completely around her.

"_Etchuta_," she cursed, "Damaged. _Frag_ it; guess I'll have to deal with you the old fashioned way."

Tak rose up onto her spider legs once again, spreading the shield out in front of her as Yeti and the other agents opened fire again. Tak indulged in a maniacal laugh as the bullets bounced harmlessly off of the energy barrier, and began powering up her weapons again. And she was just about to fire, when something suddenly slammed into the back of her head. She blinked stupidly for a moment, before the full force of the impact caught up with her and she blacked out, collapsing as her spider legs automatically retracted back into her PAK.

Yeti raised an eyebrow as Dib – who had been the one to sneak up behind Tak with a wrench liberated from a nearby toolbox – dropped said wrench to catch the female Irken in his arms bridal style before she could hit the ground. He then stared at her for a few moments, before shaking himself free of his stupor and lowered her gently to the ground. As he removed a pair of sleep cuffs from his pocket and began fitting them onto Tak's unconscious form, Yeti approached, keeping his gun lowered but at the ready.

"So, I take it you know each other?" he asked.

"Yeah, we've met," Dib said as he finished securing the cuffs onto Tak's wrists, "She came to Earth once a few years back to try and 'steal' the planet from Zim… one of the only times that bastard and I were on the same side."

"One of?"

"I'd… rather not talk about the other times," Dib replied with a shudder, "Anyway, Zim ended up ejecting her from her own ship and sending her into space. Guess she's been drifting in space ever since."

"Fascinating," Nessie's familiarly obnoxious voice intruded on their conversation. Looking up, Yeti and Dib found that the senior agent was standing over them, looking down at Tak with a disturbing gleam in his eyes, and the lack of so much as a wrinkle in his uniform indicating that he had ducked out of the hanger the minute the fight had started. Ignoring the dirty looks he was getting from his fellow two humans, he scratched his chin as he continued to think out loud.

"To think that this creature could survive in the depths of space for years in this state – I can not wait to get her onto an autopsy table."

"No!" Dib shouted suddenly, making Yeti and Nessie stare at him with raised eyebrows. Flushing nervously under their stares, he cleared his throat and added, "She's more useful to us alive."

"How so?" Nessie asked, eyes narrowed in distrust.

"We know only the most basic information about the Irkens and how they operate," Dib explained, "What better way to learn more about them than to ask a living member of the species? And I do stress the _living_ part."

Nessie glared at Dib, but before he could say anything, Yeti spoke up.

"Perhaps we should take this up with the Captain?" he suggested, "This does seem like the sort of decision he should be involved in."

"Fine," Nessie growled, "Mothman, come with me. In the meantime, Agent Yeti, take the alien and that… _thing_, to a containment cell."

Dib and Yeti looked over to the side of the hanger where MIMI was, and were greeted with the sight of the robot curled up in a ball on the floor, apparently asleep.

"…I didn't think robots slept," Yeti said after a few moments of silence.

"They don't eat either, but Zim's put away enough junk food in a year to feed most third world countries," Dib replied with an eye roll. Getting to his feet, he began walking after Nessie, who was already on his way out of the hanger. Glancing over his shoulder just as he entered the connecting hallway, he saw Yeti and the other agents picking up the unconscious Tak and sleeping MIMI and began carrying them away.

'Well, this should speed things up,' he thought to himself, before reaching up to rub his slightly aching scar and grimly adding, 'Or it could make things a hell of a lot worse.'

XXXXXXX

_The _Leviathan,_ Throne Room, 1030 Hours Galactic Standard Time_

Zim sat almost statue-like on his throne, a frown of concentration on his face as he stared impassively straight ahead. This image of pure, unquestionable authority he presented was interrupted for only a moment as one of his hands twitched in slight aggravation.

"Stay still," Jana gently chided from the opposite side of the room, where she was floating on a hover platform so as to be level with her mate.

"You try sitting still for over three hours straight," Zim snapped back with a tone of annoyance in his voice, though he stayed perfectly still while speaking.

"With all due respect, love, if you don't have the patience to pose, you shouldn't have agreed to let me do your portrait," Jana replied with a rare cheeky grin as her brush gently stroked the canvas before her.

Zim rolled his eyes and cursed himself; after Jana had mentioned that she used to have an interest in art before entering the Shadow training program, Zim had insisted that she paint his official portrait. Now he was regretting it… then again, all truly magnificent rulers did need a portrait, and Jana was the only person Zim trusted to properly portray him in all his magnificence.

"Done," Jana announced, lowering her brush. Zim grunted in relief, and sagged in his throne, allowing himself to drop his image of authority, if only for the moment. Jana, meanwhile, put down her palette and brush, and moved the platform over to Zim's throne, grabbing the freshly painted portrait as she hopped off to land next to him.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked, handing him the portrait.

Zim took the portrait in his hands and examined it closely; the image actually was quite breathtaking, the details perfect in every degree, right down to the light from the nebula visible behind the throne glinting off his armor. Nodding in approval, Zim released it, catching it telekinetically and leaving it hovering in midair. A pair of drones in the corner of the room, having awaited the silent signal from their master, quickly flew towards the canvas; one of them grabbed it and promptly fitted it into a frame the other was holding in wait.

"Well done, my dear," Zim said, gesturing for Jana to join him as the drones finished their work and put the portrait in place behind the throne and just below the viewport. With a grin, she settled herself on his lap, wrapping her arms his neck and snuggling up to him even as he encircled her waist in his own arms. Just as they leaned forward to kiss, however, the computer spoke up.

"Not to interrupt or anything, but we're receiving a message from General Kumozen."

Both Irkens sighed, reluctantly shifting into work mode as Jana hopped off of Zim's lap and both of them turned to face the middle of the room, where a holo-screen had lowered from the ceiling and was currently on standby mode. Zim gave a slight nod to confirm that they were ready to receive the message, at which point the screen went to static for several seconds before revealing the image of the GEST alpha.

"My Lord, my Lady," he greeted, bowing his head, "The fleet is in position. We are ready to begin Phase 3."

"And the holographic shields are functioning properly?" Jana asked with a narrowed eye.

"I've had all ships check thrice, Mistress. On both visible and functional levels, the illusion is flawless."

"Excellent," Zim said with a smirk, "Then you may proceed, General. And remember, we need some of them to survive in order to spread the word; so try not to kill _all_ of them."

"I will try to restrain myself, Master," Kumozen replied with a throaty chuckle, "Kumozen out."

"Well now that that's out of the way," Zim began with a grin as he turned back to Jana, "where were we?"

Grinning right back, the assassin lowered herself back into Zim's lap and leaned forward.

"Right about here, I believe," she responded, pressing her lips to his. And as the pair of would-be conquerors began feasting on each other's faces, light-years away their warriors prepared for the slaughter.

XXXXXXX

_The Shuron System, Sector 5839-FDN, 1115 Hours Galactic Standard Time_

The Shuron System was normally a very beautiful sight, containing a mere four planets. However, all four were gas giants, each with dozens of planetoid moons, several of which were life-supporting and inhabited. Or at least, there _had_ been moons surrounding the four planets; now, however, they were gone, courtesy of the fleet of Planet Jacker ships now preparing to enter hyperspace.

On board the lead ship, a teal-eyed Jacker by the name of Nik whistled happily to himself as he piloted the ship towards the outer edge of the system. Turing to his larger partner, he grinned widely.

"Hey, is this a haul or what Oog?" he asked. Oog-Ah merely grunted in return, causing Nik to raise a narrow eyebrow at him.

"What's with you? In case you've forgotten man, this should be enough to keep our sun burning for almost another _year!_"

"Exactly," Oog-Ah replied, "We won't have anything to do for that whole time!"

"You've never heard of vacation?"

"Where's the fun of not hearing critters burn?"

Nik stared at Oog-Ah for several moments before saying, "You know, my cousin's a therapist. He might be able to help with those sadist tendencies of yours."

"Excuse me?" Oog-Ah growled as he leaned over so that they were at eye level with each other, "We have the exact same job. How am I a sadist?"

"Hey, I do this because it's necessary," Nik said, "But you seem to enjoy just a _little_ too much."

Before the conversation could go any further, all the alarms on the ship suddenly sprang to life. Jumping in surprise, both Jackers turned to find the source of the alert, and froze in shock at the sight of a fleet of Irken ships exiting hyperspace in front of them. The Irken ships quickly fanned out, blocking the path of the Jacker ships and lining up in a clearly aggressive formation.

"What the? What are they doing here?" Nik asked, looking utterly confused.

"You idiot!" Oog-Ah snarled, "You picked a system they were probably going to invade!"

"Why do you automatically blame me?" Nik asked, "Besides, none of these planets were marked! See?"

Nik reached into the console's glove compartment and pulled out a galactic map. Pointing to the Shuron system's location, he added, "Look, it says right here that this system is up for grabs. That can't be what this is about."

Oog-Ah merely grunted again, then hit the activation switch for the communication system.

"Attention Irkens," he snapped, "This system is free game, and we're taking it. So back off before we kick your little green _kegems_. Got it?"

The Irkens didn't respond – not in words, anyway. But several moments of silence after Oog-Ah made his declaration, the weapon emplacements on the Irken ships began glowing. Eyes widening in panic, Nik grabbed the controls for the ship and attempted to move it out of the way of the attack. He was partially successful, as the main ship capsule that he and Oog-Ah were in was spared; however, the tether connecting it to the dome containing their stolen planet was blown apart, sending the dome spinning off through space.

"Argh! Those no good little-" Oog-Ah's cursing was cut off as he realized that Nik was piloting the ship as fast as possible _away_ from the Irkens.

"What are you doing? They've attacked us! We must retaliate!"

"You crazy or something?" Nik asked, his quivering voice showing how close he was to breaking down, "We've only got basic weaponry, remember? We don't stand a chance against those guys! Besides, I'm not the only one running."

Glancing out the cockpit viewscreen, Oog-Ah was greeted with the sight of the entire Planet Jacker fleet present in the system – those that hadn't been destroyed in the initial assault, anyway – were moving to try and escape the system. Some were stubbornly keeping hold of their captured planets, while others were making the smarter move of ditching the extra weight. Unfortunately, a lot of them just weren't fast enough, especially when several squadrons of small, swift Spittle Runners flew in, cutting off the escaping ships and annihilating many of them.

Grimacing at the sight, Oog-Ah turned back to Nik.

"Fine, get us out of here," he growled, "We need to inform High Command of this outrage – how dare the Irkens violate the treaty like this?"

Nik tuned out his ranting partner, instead focusing on getting the hell out of Dodge. Luckily for them, they and a few other ships managed to reach minimum safe distance and enter hyperspace just before the Irken ships could reach them and finish them off. The remaining ships were quickly wiped out, and for several minutes the Irken ships swept through the system, checking to make sure that no Planet Jackers were left alive. Once they were certain, they regrouped… and then began shimmering as their holographic coverings deactivated, revealing the fleet of Rinimikks and Slayers that had been the _real_ perpetrators of this slaughters.

On the bridge of his flagship, Kumozen laughed sadistically as he took in the sight.

"Marvelous," he said, "Exactly as Lord Zim planned. Now those fools shall rush to tell their leaders of this perceived breach of their treaty with the Irkens and declare war."

"Sir," Sornak spoke up, "What should we do about the captive planets?"

Kumozen raised a scaly eyebrow at the question, turning his attention from the remains of the Jacker ships floating in front of his ship to the planet-containing spheres that had been left drifting in space when they had either been released from the ships or the ships themselves had been destroyed. Kumozen was silent for a moment as he considered what to do about them, knowing that his decision would effect the lives of the millions – if not billions – of innocent living beings on those worlds, whose only crime had been to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Bearing that in mind, the GEST leader made his decision rather quickly.

"Let them rot," he said dismissively, "What data we have on this system shows that not a single life form here is worthy of the Master's attention. They are not worth the resources to release them and return them to their proper locations. Plot a course back to the _Leviathan._"

Sornak nodded and quickly relayed the order to the rest of the fleet. Without a word of protest from a single GEST, every ship vanished in a flash of light, leaving the stolen worlds and their inhabitants to join their hijackers in oblivion.

XXXXXXX

_In Orbit Around Screwheadia, 1210 Hours Galactic Standard Time_

The _Massive_ and a fair-sized chunk of the main Armada had arrived shortly after Tenn had reported that the Resisty had escaped the system. Now, the rest of the ships were aiding Third Fleet in "pacifying" the escaped prisoners on the planet and cleaning up the mess left behind from the battle, while the _Doughnut_ had docked with the _Massive_ so that Tenn could explain her failure to the Tallest in person. And to say that they were upset with the situation was putting it mildly.

"Simple orders, very simple orders," Red said in a frighteningly calm voice as he hovered back and forth in an imitation of pacing, "Put down a slave uprising, and crush an idiot alliance of rebels. Simple enough that even a rookie fresh out of the Academy could handle it. So, where was the _difficulty?_"

The last statement was shouted down at Tenn, who was kneeling before the ticked off Tallest. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she replied, "My Tallest, the Resisty were more prepared and better skilled than we anticipated-"

"Oh, please," Purple said with an eye-roll, "How good could a bunch of _skaatel_ be?"

"Well, they did take out several of our own ships, so I'd say they're pretty good," Arnor added from a nearby floating holo-screen. Purple turned to look at him an antenna raised in confusion.

"Remind me again why you're involved in this?" he asked.

"Because I'm a better strategist than the both of you put together, perhaps?" Arnor replied, "And I should also add that, in the grand scheme of things, we still came out on top here. We still control Screwheadia, the uprising will be put down soon, and we still hold a tactical advantage thanks to the _Dread_- er, I mean, the _Doughnut_."

"She let the enemy get away!" Red snapped, "Not to mention, as you pointed out, that we lost ships! How is that coming out on top?"

"I'm simply saying-"

"You know what, Arnor? Shut up," Red said, clearly at the end of his rope, "Go fill out your paperwork or something."

Arnor let out a barely audible growl, but contained himself from saying anything he might regret later. Instead, he settled for giving a slightly mocking bow as he replied, "As you wish, sir. Signing off."

The screen flicked off, and the Tallest turned their attention back to Tenn.

"As for you, how do you suppose we punish you?" Red asked, the sarcasm in his voice evidence enough that he already had an idea in mind. Most likely a rather _painful_ idea.

"P-punish?" Tenn asked, embarrassed by the fact that she was letting her fear show.

"Well, duh!" Purple said, "You let the Resisty get away, you let them blow up the conveyor belts AND a bunch of our ships, and what's worse, you let them make our new not-as-cool-as-the-_Massive_-but-still-pretty-cool ship look like a joke. Of course we're going to punish you!"

"I think a demotion is in order here," Red said firmly.

"Really? I thought you meant we were going to throw her out the airlock or something."

"Huh, not a bad idea…"

A pair of nearby Elite Guards stepped forward slightly at that comment, making it apparent that they were ready to carry out such an order if necessary. Tenn noticed them, and paled as she realized what was potentially about to happen.

"My Tallest!" she cried, knowing that she was begging and at the moment not having the pride to care, "Please, give me another chance! I'll hunt down the Resisty and destroy them; those who I don't kill outright I'll send running to the ends of the galaxy. I swear it!"

The Tallest looked at each other, and seemed to be seriously considering the offer when one of the communications officers spoke up.

"My Tallest, we have an incoming transmission!"

"Tell 'em to call back!" Red snapped, "In case you didn't notice, we're busy!"

"But… sirs, this is important!"

"Who is it?" Purple asked, sounding more curious than angry over the interruption.

"It… it's the Planet Jackers, sir."

"What?" both Tallest shouted, completely forgetting about Tenn as they flew over to the main section of the bridge, where the main viewscreen was switching to communications mode. Within moments, it had changed to reveal a large blue-eyed Planet Jacker – none other than Chel-Ka, Supreme Leader of the Planet Jackers.

"Irken scum!" he snarled, "How dare you violate the treaty like this?"

"What? What are you talking about?" Purple asked.

"Don't pretend you don't know," Chel-Ka said, "My people were collecting planets from the Shuron system – a system you had _not_ marked for conquest – and yet you attacked us. Over twenty of my people were killed!"

"I don't know what you've been injecting," Red said with a narrowed eye, "but we didn't attack you. We've got no interest in a war with you guys – it'd be too boring."

Chel-Ka ignored the thinly veiled insult, instead saying, "Oh, so you didn't attack us? Then explain this!"

The Jacker leader gestured off screen, and in response, a smaller screen appeared. On it, security footage from the surviving Jacker ships played, clearly showing the "Irken" ships attack and destroy the majority of the Jacker fleet without even giving a warning. The Tallest stared at the sight, utterly shocked; Chel-Ka seemingly didn't notice this as he glared at them once the footage was done.

"Know this," he said in a low, dangerous voice, "As of this moment we are at war."

"Wha- wait a minute!" Purple started to say, only to be cut off as the signal was cut, ending the conversation. Looking confused and a little shaken, the violet-eyed Tallest turned to his scarlet counterpart and said, "What the _frag_ is going on?"

"I-It's the Resisty," Red said, sounding just as shaken as Purple felt, "Obviously, they used some of the ships they stole from us to trick the Jackers into thinking we had attacked them. That's the only explanation."

Spinning around, Red turned his attention to Tenn, who had been watching the whole situation in wide-eyed shock.

"You really that desperate to hunt the Resisty? Then do it! Take your fleet and find them, and make them pay for screwing things up for us like this!"

"Yes, my Tallest," Tenn said, bowing in respect, "But I won't be able to take the whole fleet. The situation here-"

"Never mind that, we'll leave some of our ships here to deal with it," Purple said, waving his hands in a shooing motion, "Now go on. Get out of here!"

Tenn saluted, then quickly got to her feet and left the room – as did Zim's spy, who had been on the bridge the whole time, but had been ignored by the Tallest and everyone else throughout everything. Repressing the urge to laugh triumphantly, he made a mental note to contact Zim as soon as he was sure he wasn't being watched, in order to pass along the good news.

Phase 3 was complete. Now the _real_ fun was about to begin.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

**A/N: And that is that. Hope it was good enough to make up for the wait. In any case, I should be getting to the main action very soon, with just a little more build up to go. Hope you all stick with me until then.**

**Next chapter: Dib interrogates Tak (and vice versa), while in the looming war tensions begin to build on all sides.**

**Until then, read and review!**


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: Here we are, new chapter. Not much in the way of action, but just about everything that happens here will be important later on. And on another note, as of this chapter GA is now longer than "Shadows" was by word count, though still much shorter by number of chapters – which says something about how bad "Shadows" was compared to the rest of this trilogy.**

**Anyway, that said, read on!**

**Disclaimer: The OCs belong to me. Everyone else is property of Jhonen Vasquez.**

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

_The_ Magellan_, Bridge, 7:10 PM Earth Time_

After an hour of arguing over what to do with Tak, all either Dib or Nessie had to show for it were sore throats; Captain Robertson hadn't participated in the conversation, merely standing by and watching the two of them sling insults back and forth at each other. Only once they were both red-faced and breathless did he comment, "Well, if you two eggheads are done, maybe you'd care to listen to the decision I came to five minutes into the conversation?"

Both SEN agents turned to look at the Captain with raised eyebrows.

"If you came to a decision that fast, why'd you let us keep arguing?" Dib asked, his voice slightly raspy from an hour of nonstop shouting.

"What can I say?" Robertson asked with a shrug, "It was amusing to see you two verbally bash each other. As for my decision, I agree with Mr. Membrane – the alien could provide us with valuable Intel. Which, as a career military man, I can tell you makes all the difference in combat."

Dib smirked at Nessie, who glared back at him.

"However," Robertson continued, "I also agree with Agent Nessie that she presents a security risk while alive, and I have a duty to every man and woman on this ship to keep them safe. So, the minute that overgrown bug becomes a credible threat, I'm having her shot and letting Agent Nessie cut her up. Understood?"

"Yes sir," Dib grumbled, while Nessie smirked in triumph.

"Well then, I suppose I'll get to work on that interrogation," the senior SEN agent said as he turned to leave the room. But before he could get anywhere, the Captain held up a hand to stop him in place.

"Actually, I want _him_ to handle the interrogation," Robertson said, pointing to Dib.

"What? !" Nessie snapped, "Why him? _I'm_ the senior agent!"

"True, but he's got more experience with these things than you do. Plus, I don't trust you not to aggravate her into doing something that'll force my hand," Robertson replied with a glare that clearly reminded everyone present that he liked Nessie about as much as everyone else did.

Taking that as his cue to leave, Dib quickly made his way out of the room. Briskly walking down the hallway, he hopped onto the nearest ladder and climbed down the three levels to the one containing the brig, which was where Tak was being contained for the time being. Yeti and two Marines stood guard outside the door leading to the brig, Yeti armed with a submachine gun and the Marines armed with energy weapons based on the ones used against the GESS three years earlier, but advanced by reverse-engineering the energy weapons on the captured Irken pod.

Yeti's hand was pressed against the earpiece of his radio, and he nodded to Dib as he saw him approach, muttering a confirmation into the radio as he did so. Lowering his hand, he turned his full attention to Dib.

"She's all yours," he said, "We'll be out here if you need us."

"Thanks," Dib said. Taking a deep, calming breath, he opened the door to the brig and entered, closing the door behind him.

The brig was a simple setup. Just a dozen or so cells, combining traditional steel bar doors with a force field that was in place on both sides of each cell's door, ensuring that the bars couldn't be cut by any means. Not that Tak was attempting any such thing; at the moment, she was sitting on the sparse bed of her cell, legs crossed in an almost meditative position, with her eyes shut and MIMI curled up in her lap.

While Dib waited for her to notice him, he took a moment to observe her, and noticed that she was in worse shape than she had appeared at first glance. Her clothes were dirty and torn, she seemed too thin – and she hadn't exactly been too hefty to begin with – and there was a small scar on her forehead, between her antennae. It looked like it had been there for a while, too, which meant it must have been a pretty serious wound at the time; if it hadn't been, then even if it had scarred it would have disappeared after a short amount of time, due to the PAK's healing ability. Despite himself, Dib couldn't help but feel sorry for her – she'd obviously had a pretty rough time.

"You've gotten taller," Tak said, making Dib jump as the silence was suddenly broken.

"How did you know it was me?" he asked. Tak merely smirked in response as she opened her eyes halfway, the purple orbs almost mocking Dib with the apparent calm in them, despite the situation.

"I have my ways. But seriously, how in Irk's name did you get so tall?"

"I hit puberty," he replied, and at the blank look he received, he added, "It's a human thing."

"I see," Tak said, sounding only mildly interested, "And what about your face?"

"Huh?" Dib blinked in confusion, before realization dawned. Reaching up to self-consciously rub his scar, he said, "Oh, you mean this. That's a long story, and one I don't really want to get into."

"Looks like it hurt when you got it."

"Yeah, it did. But we're not here to talk about me."

Pulling over a small stool that was in the corner of the room, he sat down and fixed Tak with what he hoped was an intimidating look.

"So," he started, "How'd your pod get all the way out here? I somehow doubt that Zim sent you flying hard enough to go past the speed of light – you should be somewhere in the depths of space back near our solar system."

Dib noticed how Tak twitched at the mention of Zim's name. However, she simply shook it off and replied, "And why, pray tell, should I tell you?"

"Because right now, you answering my questions is the only thing keeping my crewmates from dissecting you," Dib answered, gesturing with one hand towards the security camera on the ceiling that was aimed towards Tak's cell. Tak glared at the camera, no doubt wishing that she could get her hands on the people watching from the other end.

"Fair enough," she said, returning her glare to Dib, "My pod didn't have enough power for a long-distance hyperspace jump, so I set it to jump as far as it could. Then, once back in real space, I pieced together a rudimentary set of solar sails and connected them to the pod's hyperspace engines. I programmed the engines to jump every time they absorbed enough energy from the sails, set a course for the nearest Irken outpost, and then put myself in hibernation mode in order to preserve my PAK's own power levels."

"And where would the nearest Irken outpost be?" Dib asked, leaning forward slightly.

"Even if I told you, you do realize it would be suicide to go there, don't you?" Tak asked with a grin, "The standard procedure for dealing with unauthorized ships in Irken space is to shoot first, shoot some more, grab a snack, and _then_ ask some questions. Though, I suppose it would be worth it to see you and your fellow little primates get blown up."

"And you along with us."

"True," she admitted, waving a hand dismissively, "But I would die happy knowing I'm taking you with me. Zim may have ruined my life the first time, but _you_ helped him last time around… shame, really. If I had succeeded, I would have kept you around as my personal slave."

"Really?" Dib asked, blinking in surprise. Tak shrugged in response.

"You were one of the few humans I found… tolerable," she admitted, before her face and voice hardened and she added, "However, considering you helped Zim stop me, you can forget about any mercy in the future."

Dib was about to respond to that, when Tak suddenly added, "What ever happened to him, anyway?"

"Who, Zim?"

"No, the other Irken we both hate," Tak replied with an eye roll, "Of course Zim, you twit."

"No need to get testy," Dib muttered, "And in any case, I haven't seen Zim in three years; after I beat his last plan and exposed him to the world in the process, he locked himself in his base – which then blew up, I should mention."

At the almost gleeful look that appeared on her face at that statement, he added, "But don't get your hopes up. We never found a body, and I think we both know that Zim wouldn't give up like that."

"So, the coward fled, huh?" Tak asked with a laugh, "Oh, that's rich. The 'great Invader' ran away – oh, I do hope the Tallest recorded his failure execution. I would have loved to be there to see it in person, but I suppose that can't be helped. I'll just have to comfort myself with the knowledge that that little Defective is dead."

Dib was sorely tempted to explain to Tak all the reasons he doubted that her theory was what happened – not least of all the fact that Zim wouldn't be able to go anywhere near Irk due to the events leading up to his departure from Earth – but decided that he should keep her in as good a mood as possible. After all, the better the mood she was in, the better his chance of getting answers out of her. Keeping that in mind, he said, "Well, as long as we're on the subject of the Empire-"

"Whatever it is, I'm not answering," Tak cut him off, as MIMI stirred awake in her lap, "And you can pass this along to your friends – no matter what you do to me I will _not_ willingly betray my people or my Tallest. So, I believe that puts an end to this conversation."

As if to punctuate that statement, MIMI's eyes switched from their friendly teal to aggressive red and narrowed threateningly at Dib, who paled slightly despite fully knowing that she couldn't harm him. Tak smirked at his obvious discomfort, before closing her eyes and settling back into the comfortable position she'd been in before.

"Goodbye, Dib," she said dismissively, as if she had been the one running the conversation. Dib considered arguing the point, but decided after a moment that it was pointless; he wouldn't be getting anything else out of her, not now anyway.

Pushing the stool back, Dib got to his feet and calmly walked out of the room. Sparing Tak one last glance over his shoulder, he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. Yeti turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Judging by the look on your face, I'm guessing things didn't go so well?" he asked.

Dib opened his mouth to retort to that, but shut it as he realized something. He had answered more of Tak's questions than she had answered his, and all he had to show for it was that she had satisfied his curiosity for how she had gotten this far out into deep space. Heaving a sigh, he rubbed the sides of his nose as he replied.

"No, it didn't."

XXXXXXX

_The _Liberty,_ Bridge, 1400 Hours Galactic Standard Time_

Lard Nar tapped his fingers anxiously against the armrest of his chair as he looked at the viewscreen currently displaying Chel-Ka's face. The Planet Jacker Leader had somehow found a way to contact them – he only said that it had been "difficult" – and had promptly offered an alliance against the Irkens. That had been several minutes ago, and judging by the look on Chel-Ka's face, his patience was running out quick.

"Well?" he snapped, "Are you going to accept our alliance or not?"

"With all due respect, Your Excellency," Ixane spoke up, "You can't expect us to make a decision this important so quickly. The Captain needs to consult with the other senior officers before we commit to anything."

Chel-Ka snorted, glaring at Ixane momentarily before asking, "Tell me, Lard Nar, do you always let your female speak for you?"

Ixane stiffened slightly at that comment, while Lard Nar felt his cheeks heat up.

"S-she's _not_ my female," he stuttered out quickly, "However, she is correct. I can't agree to this alliance without first discussing it with the rest of the Resisty leaders. We'll get back to you."

"Fine," Chel-Ka snarled, "But know this – I'm only giving you a week. If you haven't agreed to join us by that time, we go to war with the Irkens regardless, and you had best not get in out way."

Without another word, the viewscreen shut off, reverting to the ship's exterior view. Hesitantly, and with cheeks still burning slightly, Lard Nar turned to glance at Ixane, who likewise seemed to be making an effort not to look at him – though it was hard to tell with her cloak.

"Uh, just for the record," he said rather lamely, "You're _not_ my female."

Ixane turned her head to look at him, and he could tell by the glow coming from her narrowed eyes that she was glaring at him.

"Yes, I am aware of that, _sir,_" she snapped, stressing the last word in an angry hiss. Lard Nar blinked in surprise, wondering why she suddenly seemed so angry. However, before he could say anything, another voice spoke up.

"Well, isn't this touching?"

Lard Nar groaned as he repositioned his chair to face the bridge entrance, where Semnar stood with his arms folded over his chest and a sneer on his face. The two of them had had a heated conversation after escaping from Screwheadia – apparently, Semnar had tried to assume control of the Resisty in Lard Nar's absence, having proclaimed him killed in battle. Lard Nar had chewed him out for the obvious power play, but Semnar had justified his actions by stating that since he had last seen the _Liberty_ fighting the obviously more powerful _Doughnut_, it hadn't been too much of a stretch to assume that he was dead and that the position of Resisty leader was up for grabs. Still, needless to say, things were tense between the two of them.

"What do you want, Semnar?" Lard Nar asked, not exactly happy to see him again.

"Just curious," the black-skinned Vortian asked, "Why, exactly, did you just refuse the offer of a lifetime? We need all the help we can get if we're going to take down the Irkens."

"True," Lard Nar grudgingly admitted, "However, that doesn't mean I'm going to just jump at every offer that gets thrown at us. And you can't honestly tell me that you trust the Planet Jackers, of all people."

"And why not?"

"Are you thick or something?" Ixane asked, "These are people who have willing thrown countless worlds and innocent living beings into their sun to keep it going, despite having the ability to quite easily move their own planet to a safer and more stable system."

"Not to mention the fact that it has only been their alliance with the Irkens that has kept them from going after our own worlds," Lard Nar added, "How long do you think they would wait before taking the opportunity to make up for lost time?"

"Then we make our own alliance," Semnar replied, "In case you've forgotten, I _am_ a politician. I know how to negotiate. Why not let me handle that?"

"You wish. If we do ally with the Jackers, _I'll_ handle the negotiations. And that will only be after I've decided that they're trustworthy."

"After _you've_ decided? What happened to all that 'discussing with the other Resisty leaders' stuff?"

"I lied. I thought you knew about the concept – after all, you _are_ a politician," Lard Nar replied with a smirk, clearing enjoying throwing Semnar's own words back at him.

Semnar growled. "And you really think the rest of the Resisty is just going to let you throw away an alliance we need?"

"The rest of the Resisty trusts me," Lard Nar said, "That's why I'm in charge."

"For now," was all Semnar said, before turning and stomping out of the room. Lard Nar and Ixane watched him go, neither of them aware that the entire conversation had been monitored via nearby security camera by the stowaway spider drone, which even now was redirecting the footage to the _Leviathan_, where two pairs of Irken eyes watched the proceedings very intently…

XXXXXXX

_The _Leviathan,_ Voi's Personal Chambers, 1450 Hours Galactic Standard Time_

Voi drummed his fingers on the console before him as he waited for the computer to finish running its calculations. As he waited, he halfheartedly glanced around his "room". Much like his cell back on Vort, it was really just a small lab with a bed and a smaller bathroom squeezed in – Zim was making it no secret that Voi was as much his prisoner as he had been the Empire's. The only real difference was that he was actually allowed to leave his room, but even then the GEST or Jana's drones or sometimes even Jana herself was always watching him. Ironically, it was only when he was in his cell-like room that he had any freedom at all; he'd managed to install an Electronic Security Field to block out any form of spying equipment, and his personal computer was totally isolated from the _Leviathan's_ main systems by Zim's own paranoid orders. Apparently, the Invader-turned-warlord didn't want to take the chance that Voi would somehow hack his computers and cause any sort of damage to them.

And this was working in Voi's favor. Since he couldn't access the main computer from his own system, the reverse was also true; anything he did on his personal console was only accessible through that console, and locked under triple-level encryption. And since he kept all knowledge of what he was _really_ doing was crammed into a corner of his mind, Zim never even suspected his planned eventual betrayal, so for the time being his secrets were safe.

He was pulled from his thoughts as his ear nubs picked up the distinct sound of someone's footsteps approaching his door. Quickly minimizing the screen that he had been using to run his program, he brought up another detailing schematics of the Rinimikks and Slayers. He then calmly looked up as the door opened, allowing Jana to enter the room.

"My Lady," he greeted with a mock bow.

"Spare me your false pleasantries, Voi," Jana snapped, "they're an insult to us both."

"Alright," Voi said, straightening up, "Did you want something, or do you just want to torment me?"

"If I wanted you tormented Voi, I'd lock you in a room with General Kumozen," Jana shot back, smirking as the Vortian shivered at the thought, "But yes, I'm here because Lord Zim has a question for you. What do you know of a Vortian named Glem Semnar?"

Voi paused for a moment as he considered the question before answering, "I only know him by reputation; he's supposed to be a power-grabbing, self-centered egotist, the kind that gives all politicians a bad name. From what I hear, he switched his support between political parties the moment whichever one in power began to loose support, in order to always end up on the winning side. In fact, before the Invasion of Vort, rumor had it that he was planning a vote of no confidence in the Grand Chancellor so that he could take his seat."

Jana chuckled at that last comment, "So, the Empire denied him his chance at leadership, eh? That would explain why he's going after them so viciously."

Voi blinked in surprise.

"He's in the Resisty?" he asked, worry creeping into his voice as he wondered why Jana sounded so happy about it.

"Yes, he is," Jana replied, "And he seems to be gathering quite the gathering among the newer members. In fact, it probably wouldn't be too much of a stretch to assume that – combined with the lust for power you just informed me that he has – he would be quick to assume power of the whole organization in the event that Lard Nar were to have an unfortunate… accident, shall we say?"

"You can't do that!" Voi shouted.

"Do _not_ tell me what I can and can not do, _skaatel_," Jana hissed, "Lard Nar is proving to be too cautious for Lord Zim's plans to properly accelerate. We need to replace him with someone a bit more aggressive, someone more willing to take the fight to the Armada."

"You mean someone more willing to walk into a slaughter," Voi snapped, "You two megalomaniacs would wipe out my entire species if it served your plans."

"Yes, we would," she replied with a smirk, "So you should try and stay on our good sides before we decide that there's no longer any reason to keep you around. If you catch my drift."

Voi was silent after that, and Jana took the opportunity to quickly weave around him to look at his console. His eyes widened in shock, but he forced himself to stay calm; she wouldn't find anything there, he repeated constantly in his head, she wouldn't find anything.

"You know, Voi," she spoke up after a moment, "I've often wondered just what it is that you do in here that requires an ES Field. I hope for your sake it's nothing Lord Zim would disapprove of."

Voi took a moment to lick his suddenly dry lips before responding, "Of course not. If I were, he'd know about it, don't you think?"

He emphasized his point by tapping his head, as if Jana actually needed reminding of how nearly impossible it was to keep secrets from Zim these days.

"As for the ES Field, that's just so I can have a little privacy. Would _you_ want someone watching you use the bathroom?" He paused for a moment, before adding, "Oh, who am I kidding? Knowing you two, that's probably one of your fetishes or something."

The next thing Voi knew, he was being slammed against the wall with a dagger pressed up against his throat.

"Mind your place, Vortian," Jana snarled, pressing the dagger in deep enough to knick the skin. As Voi gasped in pain and a small trickle of purple blood ran down the blade, Jana added, "Lord Zim, for the time being, still requires your services. But the minute he doesn't, I'm going to make sure you receive a _fond_ farewell. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," Voi croaked out. Seeing that she had sufficiently subdued him, Jana dropped him to the floor. She then turned on her heel and walked out of the room, wiping off and pocketing the dagger as she did so.

Voi pressed a hand to the cut on his throat, stemming the blood loss and speeding up the healing process. Waiting until Jana's footsteps disappeared down the hall, he pulled himself to his feet and walked over to his console. Pulling his special program back up, he saw that it had completed while he had been hiding it from Jana, and almost gave a shout of excitement when he saw that it had finally – after almost three years of research and experimental scenarios – come up with a way to undermine Zim and hopefully take him down, thus granting Voi a chance at redemption for his part in this madness. He only needed a little more time to put things together.

He just hoped he had that much time.

XXXXXXX

_The_ Doughnut,_ Tenn's Personal Chambers, 1530 Hours Galactic Standard Time_

Tenn slowly paced back and forth across her chamber, cape swishing behind her, as she pondered her next move. The _Doughnut_ and the rest of Third Fleet were currently in hyperspace, making their way towards Foodcourtia – rumor had it that the Resisty had used it as a resupply planet in the past (albeit discreetly), so that made it the first place she would go to look for them. She'd interrogate every person on the planet if she had to, but she would find a lead and track Lard Nar and his cronies down, even if it took her a lifetime.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of someone using the announcement buzzer on her door. Grumbling angrily to herself – she had asked not to be disturbed – she stomped over to the door and opened it, leveling her best glare at whoever had interrupted her thinking. Which, as it turned out, was Skoodge, who flinched at the sharp glare he received from the slightly taller female.

"What is it?" she snapped.

"Err, well," he stammered, "I, uh, just noticed that you seem a little tense, and that's no good in a commanding officer, so I brought you something to help you relax."

Tenn blinked in surprise as Skoodge held up a large bottle of some semi-translucent liquid and handed it to her. She took it carefully, eyes widening as she read the label.

"Boodie-Nen Rum?" she asked, completely astounded, "Skoodge, they don't even brew this anymore! How'd you get a bottle?"

"Let's just say I know a guy who knows a guy and leave it at that," Skoodge said with a shrug, "I was saving it for a special occasion, but you really look like you could use it."

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Well, I noticed that ever since the battle your antennae have been twitching a lot, which they always do whenever you're really nervous about something. And, you've got bags forming under your eyes, which always happens whenever you're really stressed," Skoodge explained, "So, I figured you could really use something to calm you down."

Tenn stared, surprised at how obvious her feelings apparently were, but before she could say anything, a buzzing sound came from the intercom on her desk. Walking over and putting the bottle down on the desk, she hit the activation button.

"Yes?"

"_Ma'am,_" the voice of the officer she'd left in charge of the bridge said, "_We're nearing the Foodcourtia system. We'll be reverting to real-space in approximately five minutes._"

"Good, I'll be there in two," Tenn replied. Picking the bottle back up, she quickly placed it in the mini-fridge set into the side of her desk, then turned on her heel and made her way back to the door. Skoodge stepped out of the way, and after Tenn walked past he started after her, making sure to stay a respectable distance behind her.

"Thanks, by the way," she commented as they made their way down the hall.

"No problem," he responded with a smile.

"We'll need to remember to open it later."

Skoodge blinked, "We?"

"Hey, it's your bottle," she replied with a shrug, "Besides, think of it as my way of saying thanks."

She flashed him a smile at that, and he smiled back, before turning his head away to hide the slight blush that had appeared on his face. She was just so gosh-darn… _pretty_ when she smiled like that. He couldn't help himself.

The bridge doors slid open, and everyone in the room except the pilots snapped to attention as the two of them entered. The officer Tenn had left in charge saluted as he stepped away from the command chair, which Tenn lowered herself into and Skoodge took his position next to. A few minutes later, the ship reentered the normal universe, and the red orb of Foodcourtia came into view. Watching it intently, Tenn steeped her fingers together and rested her chin on them.

"And now," she muttered, "The hunt begins."

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

**A/N: Yes, I'm shipping a little SATnR, so sue me. And for those wondering, I will also be trying my hand at DATR as well, but I give no promises for how that will turn out.**

**Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, and the foreshadowing I planted in certain scenes – several things that happened in this chapter **_**will**_** be important later on. And not just the obvious example with Voi.**

**Next chapter: Tenn begins her search for the Resisty on Foodcourtia, while Dib and the others onboard the **_**Magellan **_**plan their own next move.**

**Until then, read and review!**


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: Here we are, new chapter. And I hope you'll all forgive me for the wait. I was on vacation, and when I got back a whole bunch of stuff (which I don't want to talk about) came up that kept me busy. And on top of all that, I recently got a review for this story pointing out how much my characterizations and plot have decayed over the course of the trilogy; I appreciate the honesty in the review, but the realization was still like a punch to the gut and seriously drained my motivation to write for a while. But, I'm back at it now, and I've made a decision – I'm going to continue to write to the best of my ability, and if that reviewer doesn't think it's as good as it could be, they don't have to keep reading it.**

**Anyway, I've rambled on long enough. Read on!**

**Disclaimer: I own the OCs. All canon characters belong to Jhonen Vasquez.**

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

_Foodcourtia Commerce Council Chambers, 1815 Hours Galactic Standard Time_

Tenn sighed as she rubbed her head in an attempt to ward off the migraine that had been forming throughout the entire meeting with Foodcourtia's Commerce Council. She really wished that she were on a Core World like Devastis or a Colony like Vort; at least then she would have had a planetary governor or military commander to deal with. Unfortunately, Foodcourtia was a Fringe System – technically, it was independent from any outside power, but it had a large enough Irken population that it fell under the Empire's jurisdiction. However, because of the rest of the non-Irken population, interstellar law kept them from having direct rule. And the only reason the Irkens bothered to continue to abide by those laws and not outright invade the planet and take it for themselves was because no one in the higher ranks (least of all the Tallest) wanted to risk destroying their favorite restaurants.

Hence the reason Tenn was stuck talking with the Commerce Council, which was composed of the owners of all of Foodcourtia's largest businesses; due to the nature of the planet, that technically made them its rulers anyway, so it had been decided at some point prior to Tallest Miyuki's reign that the Council would be formed so that they could work together in regards to any issues that effected the whole planet.

So, Tenn had been stuck for the past two hours arguing with what was essentially a bunch of fast food executives over whether or not there were Resisty sympathizers on Foodcourtia, and if so, what to do about them. And that was after half an hour of arguing over whether or not to let the few non-Irken members of the Council attend the meeting, since it was purely an Imperial manner.

"Just because people are openly speaking against the Empire doesn't mean they're Resisty supporters," the Blob owner of a chain of Vort dog stands said, reiterating a point that had already been brought up several times.

"Pretty much everyone who isn't an Irken hates the Empire," a Nhar-Gh'ok added, "What do you want to do? Arrest practically everyone on the planet?"

"Good luck with that," Sizz-Lorr snorted, "Heck, these past few years, I've been hearing plenty of Irkens even start criticizing the way the Tallest are running things."

Tenn narrowed an eye at her morbidly obese fellow Irken.

"And tell me, oh mighty Fry Lord," she asked, the sarcasm in her voice thick enough to cut with a knife, "Have you bothered to report any of these dissenters to Irken Security like you're supposed to?"

"Why should I? I'm one of them," Sizz-Lorr retorted with a snort, "Red and Purple are idiots. If Miyuki or Spork were still around, the Resisty never would have gotten this strong."

Tenn supposed he might be right there; however, that was not the point.

"Look," she said wearily, "We've had confirmed reports of Lard Nar and several of his officers being sighted in several spots around Foodcourtia over the years – including your own restaurant, Sizz-Lorr – as well as bartering supplies out of several food depots. All I'm asking is that if and when they show up to do so again, you and your employees do whatever you can to detain them, so that they can be arrested and interrogated by my forces."

"What, the mighty Irken Armada needs the help of us lowly _skaatel_?" a Crystalian asked, her gem-like body glinting in the way it did for her people's version of a smirk.

Tenn growled slightly as she replied, "It is merely an act of wisely asking for extra aid. We do not _require_ your help, however-"

"That's not what I hear," a Boodie-Nenian at the other end of the conference table spoke up, "Everyone knows you're going to go to war with the Planet Jackers any day now, plus you've had to waste resources putting down those rebellions on Vort and Screwheadia. You're going to need a lot of help if you're going to fight on two fronts at once."

"Yeah," the Nhar-Gh'ok added with a smirk of his own, "And from what _I_ hear, Commander, you in particular could use all the help you can get. Or isn't it true that your new 'unstoppable' flagship got creamed at Screwheadia by Lard Nar's old hunk of junk?"

As the non-Irken members of the Council chuckled to themselves at that, Tenn's antennae twitched rapidly for a moment, before flattening against her head. The rest of the Irkens in the room – including Skoodge, who'd merely been observing from the doorway – cringed and shifted away slightly when they noticed that. A sign of extreme irritation followed by one of anger was never a good combination. Which the rest of the room quickly realized themselves, as Tenn slammed her hands onto the table and stood up.

"Fine then," she snarled, "If you don't want to help, then I suppose I'll have to take matters into my own hands. By the power invested in me by the Almighty Tallest, as of this moment I am placing this planet under martial law."

"What? !" the council members shouted.

"You can't do that!" the Blob screamed, his body bouncing up and down as he jumped to his feet.

"Actually, I can," Tenn replied with an evil grin, "According to the Irken Law Code – Article 502, Section H, Subsection D, Amendment 13 – in times of unrest, any planet with a large Irken population can be placed under Imperial control in order to preserve the safety of said Irkens."

"How is this protecting us?" an Irken sitting next to Sizz-Lorr asked.

"By acting to curb the activities of a terrorist group aimed at killing Irkens, of course," Tenn replied with a smirk. She knew she was stretching the truth, but she didn't really care, as she added, "You can inform your employees and customers that a curfew is now in effect. Any non-Irken found on the streets after dark will be detained and questioned, and no one will be allowed on or off the planet without first being searched."

"This is an outrage!" Sizz-Lorr snarled, slamming his fist into the table.

"Why do you care? You're Irken," the Crystalian pointed out.

"But most of my customers aren't! Do you know how much this is going to cost me?"

The rest of the council burst out in shouting and protesting as they all suddenly realized that, in addition to the loss of civil liberties, they were all about to lose a great deal of money. But Tenn merely ignored the protests and insults thrown at her, instead merely turning on her heel and walking out of the room, Skoodge quickly following behind her.

"I don't think the Tallest will be happy about this," he said, glancing nervously at her.

"The Tallest ordered me to find the Resisty, and I will," Tenn stated, "Once Foodcourtia is under our complete control, one of two things will happen. Either someone on the planet will tell us what we need to know once we've applied enough pressure, or the Resisty themselves will show up to resupply, at which point we'll be waiting for them."

"Still… declaring martial law seems a bit risky. We don't want to make any more enemies than we already have, do we?"

"It's well within our rights to do so," Tenn said with a dismissive wave of her hand, "Now come on; I could use a drink after all this, so me might as well break open that rum."

Skoodge didn't say anything – he knew Tenn well enough to know that when she made up her mind, it stayed made. Still, he had a feeling that things were about to get a whole lot more interesting around here.

XXXXXXX

_The_ Magellan,_ Mess Hall, 8:00 AM Earth Time_

The ship's mess hall was basically an oversized closet with a couple of small tables thrown in. The small crew combined with rotating meal times at least meant that it never became too crowded; that being said, it was still pretty cramped most of the time. Such as right now, when Dib found himself shoulder-to-shoulder with Yeti as they ate their breakfast rations. Dib was practically being pushed off the short bench, but he couldn't exactly ask Yeti to move over – the remaining space on the bench was taken up by a burly Marine who looked every bit as happy with the setup as they did. Which went the same for the crewmembers on the other side of the table.

"Think you'll have any more luck with the prisoner today?" Yeti asked.

Dib stirred the baked beans in the corner of his metal tray around with his fork for a moment as he considered the question. Scooping up a few, he swallowed before answering.

"Maybe," he admitted, "I'm hoping that the offer of food will make her talk. Irkens can go longer without eating than humans, but I know that after hibernating like that, Tak probably needs all the nourishment she can get."

"Would our food even be edible to her?" Ensign Delgado asked from her spot opposite him.

"Barely even edible to us," the Marine on Yeti's other side grunted.

"Actually, as long as there's no water or meat involved, the food should be fine," Dib replied, choosing to ignore the Marine's comment, "Although, from what I've managed to gather, their most preferred form of food is anything with lots sugar in it, so I might be able to bribe her with some."

"Good luck with that," one of the crewmembers sitting next to Delgado said, "And I mean that literally – Agent Nessie and the Captain weren't too pleased with how little you got out of your last attempt. If you don't get something useful out of her soon, the Captain might just let Agent Nessie handle things his way."

Dib frowned at the thought of that. As much as he hated to admit it, part of him had never stopped liking Tak, even after he had found out that she had just been using him to maintain her cover long enough to try and destroy the Earth. Despite that betrayal, he had still felt as though the two of them had connected on some level. So, the thought of her getting experimented on and even dissected wasn't something he wanted to even consider.

"Well, hopefully she'll talk," was all he said.

About an hour later, Dib entered the brig holding a tray filled with biscuits and small bars of chocolate – he was going to get a lot of flack from the crew over the waste of one of their few luxuries, but it would be worth it if he could just get Tak to talk.

Speaking of whom, she was lying on her back on the bed, arms folded under her head, legs crossed and one foot tapping rhythmically against the other. MIMI sat perched on the edge of the bed, stiffening as Dib came into view. Not taking her eyes off of him, the customized SIR unit reached over and tapped her master on the shoulder, gaining her attention. Tak glanced up at the contact, and upon noticing Dib on the other side of the bars she shifted into a sitting position.

"Come for another pathetic attempt at interrogation?" she asked.

"No," Dib said, holding up the tray, "I just thought that after everything you've been through, you'd be hungry."

Tak stared at the food on the tray and absently licked her lips. However, she shook herself out of it and glared at him.

"You really think that'll work on me?" she asked with a snort, "I wouldn't accept your human filth even if I was hungry. Which I am _not_. Not even in the slight-"

A rumble from her abdomen cut her off, and her face flushed in embarrassment as Dib snickered.

"You were saying?" he asked.

"Oh, shut up," she snarled.

Smirking, Dib punched a code into the control panel next to the cell. In response, the portion of the force field over the tray slot in the cell door deactivated, allowing Dib to slide the tray inside. Despite Tak's earlier protests, she dug eagerly into the food, practically inhaling it in the process. Dib raised an eyebrow at the speed, but repressed the urge to laugh at it; he needed to stay on her good side, after all.

When Tak was done, she slid the tray back through the slot so hard it nearly flew through the air back at Dib. He caught it, setting it down on the floor before quickly reactivating the force field portion over the slot – he doubted Tak could do much with such a small opening, but he knew to never take any chances when it came to Irkens.

"So," he said as he sat down, "What should we talk about?"

Tak snorted as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve.

"Oh, please. One little snack and you think you can get me to talk?" she asked.

Dib sighed deeply before replying, "Look, Tak, I'm going to be honest with you. If you don't cooperate and give me something – _anything_ – to work with, my superiors are most likely going to torture you for it, and then they'll dissect you. I can convince them not to, but only if you work with me here."

Tak frowned as she glared at him. There was something in his tone when he said that that she couldn't quite place. And the look in his eyes…

"Why do you even care?" she asked.

Dib fidgeted slightly, as he considered his answer. Deciding that the whole truth might be too risky to tell (especially with Nessie no doubt watching via the security camera), he decided to go with a slightly modified version.

"Well," he said, "I've a had a few years to think about it, and I realize that no one deserves to be cut up while still alive, no matter what we can learn from it."

"Not even Zim?" Tak asked with a smirk.

"…Okay, maybe him. But only because he's a total monster who deserves it," Dib admitted with a shrug, "You, on the other hand, don't really deserve it. Yes, I'll admit you tried to destroy the Earth too, but you were just trying to get even with Zim – something I can totally understand."

"Somehow I doubt your superiors would agree with you on that," Tak said with an eye roll. Dib was about to say something else, but she cut him off with a raised hand and added, "However, for the sake of self-preservation, I suppose I can give you _some_ information."

"Really?" Dib asked, blinking in surprise.

"Oh, I doubt it will be that useful to you, but I suppose it'll be enough to convince you and your friends to leave me alone for the time being."

"And what is 'it', exactly?"

"The layout of the Empire," Tak replied. Seeing Dib's confused look, she then said, "What did you think, huh? That you would just blunder through space until you found Irken territory, and then just sneak your way in?"

"Err, well…"

"Interstellar politics don't work the same as your planet-bound ones," Tak said in a slightly chastising tone, "There's no heavily-guarded border that you can just sneak past to get to the conquered worlds; they're all heavily guarded with fleets that would be more than capable of destroying this ship without even trying."

"What, you don't bother having ships patrol the outer parts of your territory, or something?" Dib asked.

"Our territory extends as far as the systems we've conquered and technically involves the space between them. Anything beyond that is just empty space separating us from those we've yet to conquer; really no point in wasting time flying through that unless you have a destination in mind. Though, admittedly, there are those who purposely take more time than necessary between hyperspace jumps in order to take the 'scenic route'. I know the Tallest are particularly fond of that."

"Well, this is interesting and all, but didn't you say something about the 'layout of the Empire'?" Dib asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, I did. Guess I got off topic," Tak muttered with a frown. She was usually more focused than that, but there was just something so easy about talking to Dib that it made it hard for her to focus on the serious business at hand. Shaking herself off, she continued speaking.

"First off, there are the Core Worlds – which, admittedly, is a bit of a misnomer. Planets on the farthest edge of the Empire can still be considered Core Worlds, as the definition is a world that has a population that is one hundred percent Irken, and is therefore at the metaphorical core of the Empire. These worlds are the most heavily guarded, with Elite Guard brigades supporting whatever fleet elements are stationed in those systems, to defend against whoever would be foolish enough to dare attacking them.

"The Colonies are those worlds which have been conquered and subjugated to the will of the Empire. They are not guarded _quite_ as heavily as the Core Worlds, but usually have some Elite Guard elements to back up the military forces maintaining control of those planets marked as high-priority. For Colonies of less importance, if the military is backed up at all, it's by Irken Security – our version of a police force, in case you're wondering.

"And then there are the Fringe Systems. Like the Core Worlds, they don't actually have to be where their name implies – they are not on the fringe of the Empire's territory, but rather on the edge of its control. They have moderate-to-large Irken populations – usually having peacefully migrated there during our people's more peaceful phases – so according to interstellar law we have the right to have a presence on those planets that allows us to 'protect' them. However, since they are not _officially _part of the Empire, that presence can't be larger than a company or two of Irken Security forces, and no fleets in orbit."

"So, one of those would be our best bet to head towards?" Dib asked, while silently praying that he wasn't actually _drooling_ over the fact that he'd just received, in only a few minutes, more information on the Irken Empire than in all the years he'd been fighting Zim.

"Perhaps," Tak replied, "But bear in mind that the minute you and your friends start announcing that you're seeking to undermine the Empire, word _will_ reach the I.S. forces, and they will immediately report back to the Tallest. And, considering that they're always looking for an excuse to invade a Fringe System, they'll declare your intentions a threat to the Irken populace and invade for reasons of 'protecting Irken lives'. So, good luck with that."

Dib frowned. That certainly complicated matters, but he supposed they'd have to deal with that when the time came. In the meantime, there was still one question he needed to ask.

"Where exactly is the nearest Fringe System?" he asked.

"How should I know?" Tak snapped, "I don't even know where we are! How am I supposed to tell you how to get to a Fringe System from here if I don't even know where 'here' is?"

"Point taken," Dib replied as he got to his feet. Picking up the tray, he tucked it under one arm and made his way towards the door.

"Wait," Tak called after him, "I gave you information. Now tell your superiors to leave me alone."

Dib paused and looked over his shoulder at her with a confused look.

"I was going to do that anyway," he said, "What, did you think I was planning on double-crossing you?"

"I would, if our positions were reversed," she said.

"Yeah… you probably would," Dib muttered. Without another word, he exited the brig.

Tak watched him go; she didn't think she had to worry about him, but she was still worried about the other humans. She somehow doubted they would all be willing to honor her deal with Dib, and she needed to be ready to defend herself when they came for her. After all, she was far from peak condition, but she was still a trained Irken soldier, and with the proper planning she would still be able to make her escape and deal with the humans.

Oh yes, she was going to make them pay for this indignity. And despite the respect she may have held for Dib in the past for being one of the few intelligent members of his species, that didn't change the fact that he was one of the people who was holding her prisoner, or the fact that he had helped ruin her last chance to reclaim what was rightfully hers. So he was going to have to pay for that, but perhaps she would save him for last.

Hmm, she would have to think about that.

XXXXXXX

_The_ Leviathan,_ Training Room Delta, 2030 Hours Galactic Standard Time_

Zim stood on a balcony overlooking the training room, watching as one of the newest batches of his GEST warriors ran a gauntlet designed to weed out those who were not quite fast enough – the lasers blasting from both sides of the room fired at timed intervals in various patterns, and any GEST not quick or agile enough to navigate the sequence from one end of the room to the other would be cut down. Therefore, only the fastest GEST would survive; Zim didn't want any slow soldiers in his army when they finally saw combat.

There were other training rooms spread throughout the _Leviathan_, some sharing this one's purpose if not its design. Others were weapon ranges, holographic sparring rooms, or chambers designed to test the GEST's strength and endurance. But this room was one of Zim's favorites – to him, the race through the laser gauntlet was symbolic of his own journey through life. Like the lasers being shot at the GEST from the walls, life had barraged him with constant challenges, sometimes wounding him, but he ultimately had made his way through the gauntlet to the other side. He had only one last challenge to overcome, and he would finally claim the power that was rightfully his…

He was pulled from his philosophical musings by the sound of footsteps behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he was greeted by the sight of Jana joining him on the balcony.

"We've received updates," she said simply, knowing that he'd understand what she meant.

"Our mole or the drone on Lard Nar's ship?" he asked, turning his attention back to the gauntlet, where the surviving GEST had just completed the run.

"Both," Jana replied, "Our 'friend' reports that Commander Tenn has placed Foodcourtia under martial law in order to drive out the Resisty or any sympathizers. The Tallest aren't happy about it, but she's promised them results, so they're letting her go through with it. The natives, however, aren't taking things too well."

"Riots?"

"Yes, mostly among the _skaatel_ population. They seem to think that the Empire has no right to restrict their rights when Foodcourtia isn't officially under their control."

Zim snorted.

"Insolent fools. We are the superior race; they should all be honored that they've been allowed to continue their existence this long. Still, I suppose we should be grateful – more unrest means more Imperial forces divided and bogged down. That will make things all the easier for us. What's the report from the drone?"

"You're going to love this, milord," Jana said with a smirk, "According to the drone, Lard Nar is on his way to Foodcourtia right now with several other ships on a resupply/recruitment mission."

Zim burst out laughing, catching the surprised attention of the GEST below.

"Oh, that is rich," he said between laughs, "The fool's going to save us the trouble of eliminating him after all. I suppose Semnar isn't among those going with him?"

"No, he's not. Apparently he thinks it's a waste of time."

"Excellent. If all goes well, Tenn will be able to take full advantage of the situation and destroy Lard Nar for us. Then, Semnar will take over the Resisty, ally with the Planet Jackers, and engage in open war with the Empire," Zim thought out loud. He paused for a moment, then added, "Tell Kumozen to take a couple of squadrons to within a few light-years of the Foodcourtia system. In case Lard Nar escapes, I want Kumozen to be ready to strike him when he's still disoriented and finish him off."

"Yes, milord," Jana said with a bow, before turning on her heel and exiting.

Zim watched her go with a smile, before turning his attention back to the training room. Noticing the remaining GEST staring up at him, the smile faded into a frown.

"What are you all staring at? Run it again!"

XXXXXXX

_The_ Doughnut,_ Tenn's Personal Chambers, 2310 Hours Galactic Standard Time_

Tenn sighed in comfort as she leaned back in her chair, her feet propped up on the desk and a glass of Skoodge's rum in one hand and soft classical music playing from the entertainment system in the corner. Just as she had hoped, the alcohol had helped ease her tensions somewhat… unfortunately, it wasn't helping any with the source of said tensions.

Almost immediately after her declaration of martial law, riots had sprung up among the non-Irken population of the planet. The more anti-Irken protesters were claiming that the move was a thinly veiled attempt by the Empire to take control of the planet, and that the Irkens were perverting galactic law codes for their own ends. And the Commerce Council was doing nothing to help; in fact, many of the more radical members were openly aiding the protesters and rioters, if only to spite Tenn and the Tallest.

Even the Irken members of the Council were no help – in fact, they may have been doing more harm than the non-Irkens. Many were following Sizz-Lorr's lead in bribing the Irken Security forces to not actively do anything against the rioters. Apparently, it was their own way of protesting – not so much the martial law methods themselves, but the fact that they were costing them money.

And since the I.S. weren't doing anything to stop the riots, Tenn's own forces were stuck doing the job, which was making their initial task of trying to route out the Resisty or sympathizers all that much harder. After all, how could they find members or supporters of a rebel movement when the _entire planet_ was against them?

And if she didn't find anything on the Resisty here, the Tallest were going to have her head for disrupting the peace on Foodcourtia in the first place.

The worst part was that she couldn't even properly vent her frustrations. Normally, she would use Skoodge as a hole to shout down (the fat lump made a surprisingly good impromptu psychiatrist), but he had gotten woozy after only a few shots of the rum and had wandered off several hours ago. Frankly, Tenn thought he was just trying to get out of helping her with her paperwork – he hadn't seemed _that_ drunk.

Frowning at that thought, she took another sip before setting her glass down and putting her feet back down on the floor as she turned her attention to the small stack of datapads sitting in the corner of the desk. This was the downside to promotion; sure, she was in position of power that was nearly unrivaled in the Empire, but said position came with so much responsibility and work that she barely had time to do anything for fun these days.

Pushing that thought aside, Tenn focused on the datapads and started sorting through them. Most dealt with the distribution of troops from her fleet to the planet's surface and the unrest they were deploying to deal with. Judging by the reports she was receiving, odds were that the riots would continue even if martial law were lifted – several squadron commander reports indicated that a large portion of the rioting population were simply using the institution of martial law as an excuse to fight back against the Irkens. Made sense really, when one considered that the majority of non-Irkens living on Foodcourtia were refugees with nowhere else to go after the Empire conquered their home worlds. So, now that they finally had a chance to get even with their enemies, they were taking it.

"_Frag_ it all," Tenn cursed under her breath. Unless she could get the I.S. forces back under her control, then even if she got a lead on the Resisty she wouldn't be able to take the entire Third Fleet with her, as some of her forces would have to stay behind to deal with the uprising here before it developed into a full rebellion.

As that train of thought crossed her mind, she found herself thinking about what that Boodie-Nenian had said during the meeting with the Council. It was bad enough that they were on the brink of war with the Planet Jackers, but considering they also had to deal with this new improved Resisty, they couldn't afford the distractions of all these rebellions. First Vort, then Screwheadia, now Foodcourtia…

A light went off in Tenn's head, pieces of the larger puzzle starting to come together in her mind. True, this uprising was more or less her fault, but as for the others – it just didn't make sense as a coincidence. Within days of each other, two massive breakouts occur, bolstering a previously inept resistance while at the same time tying down Imperial forces, just in time for someone to fake an Irken attack on the Planet Jackers, thus breaking the treaty and bringing about a war between the two forces.

"Someone's manipulating this," she muttered as the realization hit her, "But who? The Resisty? No, that doesn't make sense – Lard Nar's not smart enough to pull this off. Besides, what would he have to gain from getting the Planet Jackers involved? With the treaty null and void they'll start going after any planet in Irken territory, and that includes the Colonies. Lard Nar wouldn't risk his world's safety like that… but who would? Who has what to gain from a war like this?"

Before she could ponder this any further, an alarm blared as red emergency lights began flashing. Jumping to her feet instinctively, Tenn dashed out of her chambers, running down the hall towards the bridge. Just as she reached the bridge doors, Skoodge stumbled down an adjoining hallway, holding a cold compress to his head in an obvious attempt to ward off the headache he was suffering from.

"What's happening?" he asked, sounding a bit groggy.

"I'm about to find out," Tenn replied, pushing past him into the bridge.

The bridge crew was scrambling too and fro over their stations, looking over something on their consoles – it appeared to be a high priority data stream, judging by the flashing on the screens.

"Report!" Tenn ordered, "And someone shut off that damn alarm!"

Skoodge took care of the alarm – though that may have had more to do with his hangover than following Tenn's orders – while one of the bridge technicians saluted Tenn as he answered.

"Ma'am, we've received word from one of our stealth patrol units on the edge of the system," he said, "A small group of what he believes to be Resisty ships have just exited hyperspace."

"What? !" Tenn screeched, "Are we certain?"

"One of the ships matches the description of Lard Nar's flagship, ma'am," the technician added.

Tenn stared in shock, then an evil grin plastered itself on her face.

"Where are they now?"

"Twenty-five-thousand kilometers on the other side of Foodcourtia. Our current position is apparently hiding us from their sensors."

"Good," Tenn muttered, rubbing her hands together in excitement, "Have the scout continue to follow them, and move the fleet into position. When the Resisty ships are in within the gravity well, have the scout alert us. We'll attack them before they have a chance to jump back into hyperspace."

She paused, and then added, "Destroy the rest of the rebel ships if necessary, but I want Lard Nar and his crew taken alive for interrogation."

"Ma'am?" the technician and the others looked confused, but she just glared at them.

"You have your orders, now carry them out!" she snapped. She then turned on her heel and walked up to her command chair, next to which Skoodge was standing.

"I thought you just wanted to kill them all?" he asked, adjusting the compress on his head.

"There's more going on here than meets the eye," Tenn replied, "The Resisty suddenly managed to engineer not one but two mass breakouts within the space of a few days, and just in time for someone to trick the Jackers into declaring war on us. Those events are connected, Skoodge. Someone is manipulating all this, and I think Lard Nar just might have information we need."

Skoodge looked concerned, but Tenn barely noticed. She had to prepare; in only a few minutes, she would spring her trap on the Resisty. And if she pulled it off properly, she just might get the Intel she would require to figure out what was really going on – but only if she successfully pulled off this ambush.

"Come on, Vortian, walk into my parlor," she muttered, "I have a few questions for you."

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

**A/N: Well, that is finally done. Sorry if nothing really happened here, but this was meant to just be a filler chapter. More excitement is on the way soon though, I promise. And I will try to get the next chapter out sooner than I got this one out.**

**Next chapter: I try to start tying these plotlines together.**

**Read and review!**


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